Peace Love Biscuits
by her-imperius-condessy
Summary: Set after season 8 finale- disregard season 9. Castiel has fallen, and finds his way to his friends. Working together, Cas, Sam, and Dean, along with the usual and not so usual suspects, find their ways down the road to acceptance. Also posted on AO3.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Castiel walked through the woods for a long time. Under normal circumstances, he would have been able to tell how long he had been walking by judging the movement of the Earth under his feet and the barely perceptible movement of the stars and the moon. The only movement he was able to feel now was the persistent trudging as he made his legs keep moving forward. He had to keep going, find some form of civilization before he passed out. He could feel his breathing becoming heavier; almost all the muscles in his vessel- no, _body_ aching horribly, not used to this much activity without his Grace to fuel everything. He could even feel blisters on his feet, probably from the business shoes of Jimmy, which had never bothered him before, but were obviously unsuited to what could only be described as hiking.

Cas had waited until the streaks of fire in the sky had mostly abated. He had no idea what would happen to the vessels falling to the Earth. Many would die on impact, he imagined. But many would survive. Would they remember? Would they have any residual powers, like the Nephilim? They could still be connected to Heaven, since there was still a Heavenly Host, even though the Host just consisted of the Scribe.

He watched his former brethren fall, then came to accept that there was nothing he could do. Not now, not here, and not alone. The first thing Cas knew he had to do was find the Winchesters. That was Priority Number One in his mind, but to find them, he must first trek through the unknown woods and hopefully find some town, or a gas station if nothing else.

He topped a steep hill, limping slightly because the leaves were wet and he had slipped several times, hurting his ankle a bit. But from here, he could see, not very far, a winding road, the wet blacktop shiny through the trees. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, more out of habit than thinking _anyone_ was listening to prayers anymore, he started walking towards it. Cas finally exited the tree-line a few minutes later, almost just wanting to lay down here on the side of the road in tiredness, but he had to keep moving. He took a couple of steps out into the road, looking for a helpful sign, or landmark. He saw neither.

That was the last thing he remembered.

XxxX

Dean Winchester was beyond freaking the fuck out.

He was normally cool under pressure. It came with the job description. You _gotta_ be cool. But seriously.

The last couple of hours had him so close to having some kind of panic attack, the kind usually reserved for waking up from Hell Nightmares.

First, there had been the damn angels recreating 'Starry Night', in full color, complete with fiery craters and total decimation of shit. _Fucking angels_! And he had no doubt in his mind that that douche-nozzle Metatron was behind this bullshit.

Then, while the angels were still raining down, Sam had started doing a freaky Linda Blair impression, only spraying Dean, the side of the Impala and the ground with blood instead of pea soup. Coughing and gagging, Sam said he was okay, but Dean called BS, and started to load him into the car.

Of course, Sammy started arguing about Crowley.

"We can't just leave him in there, Dean," and "He needs to go to the hospital, too," and "I'm not getting in the car until you promise to bring him."

So Dean had finally got his big-ass little brother in the car, rolling down the window in case Sam needed to spew all over again. Then he went back into the church, where he got Crowley, who was sobbing and telling Dean that the girl in 'Love Story' really didn't have to die, and alternately singing parts from what Dean recognized as 'Wind Beneath My Wings'.

Super inappropriate, considering the scene outside.

Dean literally dragged Crowley's ass out and dropped him in the back seat. His sobbing turned into wailing when he saw the 'Starry Night' impression.

Dean immediately hit the highway and had no intentions of stopping for any reason until they saw a sign for a hospital. An hour he drove, leaving the radio off, only the sounds of the air blowing through the open windows and Sam's ragged breathing and Crowley's whimpering keeping him focused.

He knew he was speeding way more than usual, but he figured that all the law enforcement would be focused on the falling bodies, and this was an emergency. The road was a little curvy, and kind of wet. So when Dean went around a curve, speeding at almost thirty over the limit, there was no way of avoiding hitting the person standing just barely in the road. He slammed on the brakes and the tires squealed to a stop, but not before there was a loud, painful thump and the person was thrown down the road a ways.

Swearing, because this was the last thing he needed right now, Dean hurried out of the car and went to check on the person, hoping to a deaf God that it wasn't an angel, and _really_ hoping the person was alive. Dean did not need another dead person on his conscience.

He wasn't expecting it to be Cas.

He dropped next to the…whatever he was now, and checked to make sure he was still breathing and had a pulse. "Cas…", he muttered, shaking his shoulders a little, "Cas, you hear me, man?"

Dean was checking his head when he noticed a lot of blood coming out of the back, trickling down his neck.

"Damn," he whispered, sighing. Cas had potentially survived a fiery fall from space, only to possibly die of a head injury by his friend, who he was probably looking for. Dean kept looking down his body; both of his wrists hung at funny angles, and there was blood seeping through his clothes in several places. Another one for the hospital.

Cas was much lighter than Dean expected. He picked him up very, very carefully and sat him in the backseat with Crowley, who was absently staring out the window at the moon and singing 'Space Oddity'. Dean strapped the seatbelt around Cas, then got back behind the wheel.

They had places to go.

XXxx

The hospital that Dean eventually found was _packed_. It was like a fucking circus in the ER. People were running all over the place, everybody talking making a loud roar. Angels who had survived the fall were still in need of medical attention, and a lot were being brought in in critical conditions, some with major burns, others with so many internal injuries they looked like they'd gone through a trash compactor. Then there were people who had been affected by the falling bodies- the roof had collapsed in a couple's bedroom, multiple vehicle accidents, houses caught on fire, you name it.

And, of course, seeing as most of the angels' vessels had had families, a whole bunch of missing people were suddenly found, and worried spouses, parents, and kids milled around, wanting to know what had happened to their loved one.

Dean didn't actually give a crap. Yeah, yeah, it was his business to help people, but these guys were way past his help level, and his brother was fucking _hemorrhaging_ on his shoulder. He dragged Sammy in first, then went back for Cas then Crowley. Dean managed to get them seated all together then told the nurse behind the desk that they needed help. Her hair looked like she may have tried to yank it out in places and she had several pens stuck in her pony-tail. She took his name then told him the triage nurse would be to see him soon.

Dean sat across from the group he'd dragged in. Sam was barely lucid, eyes half open and his breathing shallow and gurgling. His skin had turned a weird grey color and he was sweating but his skin was cold. Cas was still unconscious, paler than normal, but the bleeding from the back of his head had stopped. Blood spotted through his clothes where he must have gotten torn up on the pavement, but they were drying. Crowley had burst into fresh tears at the bustle of the waiting room, but was calming down.

'Soon' turned into an hour and a half. A harassed looking woman in scrubs that smelled unpleasantly like smoked human flesh sat next to him with a clip board.

"Are you Mr. Solo?" She asked briskly.

"Yeah, that's me. Dean."

"Dean, okay, what happened?"

Dean ran her through the story he had thought up, pretty awesomely if he said so himself.

Sam, his brother, had started coughing up blood, and then throwing up blood. Dean was bringing him to the hospital when he passed by an accident. These other two were in a car together that had hit something, Dean guessed one of the falling people, but he hadn't seen anyone. He told her he knew Cas, was a friend of his and his brother's, but had no idea who this other guy was. But they both seemed like they needed to come to the hospital, too.

She wrote all this stuff down, then started calling for stretchers. After the nurses had loaded the three men up and started towards the swinging doors Dean started to follow, but the triage nurse stopped him.

"You can go back to see them when they are stabilized, I know you understand how serious some of these injuries are. I'll have someone come get you."

Sighing again, Dean sank back into the chair, only just realizing he was covered in three different people's blood. There were other people in the waiting room who looked in worse shape, so he didn't worry about it. Absentmindedly, Dean pulled out his phone.

'Twelve missed calls. Seven new voicemail messages.'

He blinked at the screen for a minute. Who would have called him that many times?

He entered the code to listen to the messages.

'_First new message._

_Dean. Dean, this is Kevin. These boards are lighting up like I don't know what. Is it something to do with the trials? Are Sam and Cas okay? Did something go wrong? Call me back._

_Next new message._

_Dude, it's Charlie. I'm not sure if you're aware, but people are falling outta the sky. Kinda weird. Call me back._

_Next new message._

_Holy crap Dean! I just stepped out of the bunker! The angels are falling! What is happening? Freaking out here. You better not be dead._

_Next new message._

_Uh. Hey dude, it's Garth. I think the Human Torch just made a smoking hole in the middle of my pier. You, uh, you know, this usually has your name written on it. Maybe let me know what's happening?_

_Next new message._

_Uhm, hey Dean. This is Sherriff Mills. Jody. A person with charred off wings just landed on my car? Somehow I think this may be your sort of thing, you know what I mean. Call me back._

_Next new message._

_DEAN WINCHESTER! I am a damn conduit for the inspired Word. You WILL call me back. NOW!_

_Next New Message._

_CALL ME, YOU RAT BASTARD!'_

Dean had to hold his phone away from his ear at the volume of Kevin's last message. He went back and deleted all of them, then started calling everyone and letting them know the little he knew. He made sure to call Kevin last.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait.

xXxX

The first sensation Cas had was pain. It was just sort of dull and everywhere all through his body. Everything hurt, but the more he thought about it, he thought his head and his wrists hurt the most. And his feet, and his legs.

He needed to know where he was. Opening his eyes was a struggle that almost sent him back into unconsciousness, but he persevered. After what seemed like several minutes, he was able to crack his eyes open, then blink them.

He seemed to be in a dim hospital room. Ugh, the last time he had been in a hospital was unpleasant enough. Not even a full day as a human and he was back here again. Not an auspicious start. He would have to work on a way to get his Grace back as soon as he got out of here. Cas looked around and noticed a figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

He was slumped down, almost sliding out of the chair and his head resting on the back. His arms and legs were splayed out as if he were in a bed. Cas recognized it immediately as Dean. A pleasant warmth spread through Cas's chest realizing that Dean had found him. But why was he in this state?

The first and second attempts at speech only resulted in weak croaks. The third time, he managed to get out a mangled version of Dean's name. He tried again louder. "Dean?"

Dean startled out of sleep and sat up immediately, obviously not realizing he was barely on the edge of his chair and he slipped off of and made a very undignified noise, kind of like a mouse squeak. "Shit, Cas, pretend you didn't just see or hear that."

Dean straightened up and Cas felt like laughing, but something told him it would be very painful.

"What happened," Cas managed to croak out. Dean frowned.

"I was kinda gonna ask you the same thing. You want some water?"

Cas nodded and Dean helped him sit up to have a few sips of some cold water. It was a wonderful feeling.

Dean sighed. "I guess I should explain first. I managed to stop Sammy from finishing the trial. Just in time. But he got a lot worse, he was coughing up a lot of blood, so I knew I needed to get him to the hospital. We left the church and were about to get in the car when the angels started falling. Sam wouldn't leave without Crowley, so we all got packed up and left."

Dean cleared his throat. "I was speeding, driving way too fast. I came around a curve and you were standing there and I couldn't stop in time. You've got a bad concussion, almost fractured your skull. And you did break both wrists, so you needed casts till they heal. And you're scraped up real bad. I'm…I'm really sorry, Cas."

Cas made his eyes focus on Dean. This was a harder task than usual. "I am okay, Dean. Don't apologize."

Dean huffed. "You are so _not_ okay, dude. What the hell happened up there?"

He had to struggle a minute to focus. "Oh. I went back to Heaven. Naomi was dead. Metatron had killed her. He…Held me down and cut my Grace out. He told me to live a normal life, and when I died to tell him my story. Then I was in the forest."

Cas paused. "My Grace, the heart and the bow were part of a spell to throw every other angel out of Heaven." Dean nodded.

"Many of them are dead now, aren't they?"

Dean sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. "Not many of them had soft landings. There'll be survivors, but there's no way to know what shape they'll be in…What they remember, what powers they'll still have…We just gotta wait and see."

Cas felt very floaty. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"You'll help me get my Grace back, right? As soon as I am able."

Dean didn't say anything for a minute. "Yeah, Cas. If I can."

Cas hummed happily then something tugged at him. "How is Sam?"

"They still won't let me see him, he's not stable enough yet. He was drowning in his own blood, they had to put tubes in his lungs to drain it out. They did some kinda scan and said he had lesions on the inside of his lungs, but they're already healing. It's just a miracle he didn't die before the healing process started. He's hooked to all kinds of machines and they got him on so many meds, and a blood transfusion."

The next words were softer. "I was so scared, Cas."

Cas tried, really really hard to reach over to Dean to comfort him, but he could just move his fingers some. "He'll be okay. He always is. You two are notoriously difficult to kill."

Dean chuckled at that. "That's true. But I was worried about you, too. I thought you were one of those angels falling."

He tried to move again, and this time Dean caught onto the movement and squeezed the fingers sticking out from the white cast.

Cas felt his eyes getting heavy. "They have me on some kind of soporific, don't they?"

Dean chuckled again. "You could say that. Nerd."

All was dark as his eyes closed. His last sensation was of Dean leaving the bedside. Cas wanted to ask him to stay but he was already asleep.

xxXX

The next month was hectic to say the least.

A week after the night that the news was referring to as 'The Night of Fire', Cas was let out of the hospital. Dean brought him a set of his own clothes to change into and then drove him back to the bunker. It was only about an hour's drive, so Dean had been making it back and forth pretty often. After Sam had woke up and was out of the ICU, he started asking for stuff like his computer and underpants, so Dean had been playing gofer. And he had to keep watch over Kevin, who had decided to work on the Angel Tablet, and the full Demon Tablet. Dean had to make sure he was eating and not taking his weight in No-Doze, like he did last time. Or getting shit-faced.

Cas seemed more than happy to be returning to the bunker. He hadn't liked the hospital. He complained that it smelled uncomfortably like Naomi's office in Heaven, and the concussion had made him grouchy for hours on end. Dean just left him to watch TV and sulk on his own.

But the concussion had healed and the doctor had taken the stitches out of the back of his head. Cas was unhappy that the casts couldn't come off for another few weeks, but he told Dean it didn't matter; he would have his Grace back by then, he was sure.

Kevin jumped up from the table in the library that he had claimed with a rain forest's worth of notes when they came in, running over and giving Cas a hug.

"It's good to see you, man! It sucked that Dean ran you over with his car…"

Dean hit the prophet in the back of the head. Not too hard. "I didn't run him over, dork. Get back to Google Translating."

Kevin just rolled his eyes, but headed for the kitchen.

Dean started towards the hall where the rooms were. "Come on Cas, got something to show you."

There were quite a few bedrooms in the Headquarters, and while most of them seemed to be on this hall, Sam had found some in other areas of the bunker, too. Before all the shit started going down, he had been thinking of making a map.

Dean opened the door to the room next to his. "This one's yours. I'm next door, Sam's is right across the hall, and Kevin is down at the end."

The rooms mostly looked the same. There was the bed, an old-fashioned brass frame with bars at the head. There was a desk with a reading lamp and some drawers, and a chest of drawers for clothes that they were going to have to go shopping for. And there was a bedside table with a clock and another lamp.

"Kinda plain, I know, but you can decorate however you want. This is your room, Cas."

He sat on the side of the bed, sinking into the memory foam. "Thank you, Dean. This is…good."

Dean felt his eyebrows shoot up. "Good?"

Cas nodded, looking around. "Yes. I will be able to have my Grace back soon, and won't have much need for this room. But now it is good."

Dean felt something, the familiar feeling of being pissed the hell off, even though he didn't really know why. He'd been keeping himself in check, partially because Cas being hurt was his fault, and partially because he didn't want to start anything.

He needed to go see Sam.

XxXx

"Hey, man. Get Cas home okay?"

Dean huffed and sat in the chair he pulled up next to the bed.

"Yeah, I did."

Sam shut the lid to his laptop. "What's up?"

"He is dead set on getting his Grace back. It's all he's focused on."

Sam coughed some. "I guess he'll need a lot of time to accept it, you know. That he's permanently human. It's gotta suck."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I get that. But what if he can get it back?"

Sam frowned. "I very seriously doubt that. I mean, for a spell, Metatron probably used the whole thing, and even if he didn't, won't Cas need _all_ of his Grace?"

"I dunno, Sam. You'll have to do the research when you come back home. Cas is probably already in the angel section trying to find whatever he needs."

There was a tense silence. "Sam, he gets angeled back up again, you know what the first thing he's gonna do?"

Sam shrugged. "No, what?"

"He'll go and get the trials from Metatron, then he'll close the gates to Heaven. He'll be stuck up there forever."

He nodded. "Yeah, but we knew that before. He was going to close the gates and all the angels he ever pissed off were going to kill him."

Dean got up and started pacing. "Yeah, now he's stuck on Earth with all the angels he ever pissed off. What's the word on that, by the way?"

Sam opened the computer again. Since he'd gotten his laptop, he'd been doing what research he could. "Mostly, the ones who survived the fall, claim to remember their human lives, up to a certain point to where an angel asked them to be used as vessels. Then they remember some things off and on, until they fell. The smart ones have kept quiet and just gone back to their families, but some have gone on some shows, proving their powers. It seems to vary from angel to angel. Some can still heal, some can lift tons, some can read minds, or a combination of those."

Sam clicked around. "But they have lost the ability to teleport- we saw the wings burn off. And they can't make themselves invisible. I guess that was some kind of wing, cloaking thing. Also, they can die. But they can heal themselves, although it takes a while, which is why so many survived. So to kill one it would have to be a head shot, or setting them on fire, or beheading."

Dean nodded, storing the info. "So how many did survive?"

"Looking at sites from all over the world, different organizations put the number between seven and eight thousand."

Dean whistled. "Well, let's hope they learned their lesson by being kicked out by the pissed off librarian and maybe they'll leave everyone alone."

Sam gave him a Look. "Does that ever work for us?"

Dean didn't bother answering.

After a few minutes, Dean remembered something else he had been meaning to ask about.

"Any news on Crowley?"

Sam sighed and closed the computer, looking tired, pale and washed out, still hypovolemic the doctors called it.

"No. He just vanished from the room they had him in here."

"Abaddon, maybe?"

"Yeah. I think so. She mentioned something about a regime change down in Hell when she talked to him in the church."

Dean couldn't help shuddering. "That's only gonna lead to a whole world of pain, for everyone. Lilith was a bitch when she was in control, but that chick is flat out insane."

Sam yawned. "Well, she's not doing anything obvious so far."

Dean got out of his chair. "I'm gonna go back. You get some rest, man."

"All I do is rest, Dean," he grumbled, but his eyes were already closing and his breath evening out. He was knocked out by the time Dean closed the door behind him.

XXxx

The next day, Dean took Cas to the Goodwill in Lebanon to get his own set of clothes. When Cas asked why he couldn't just keep wearing Dean's clothes, it wasn't like he was going to be human for much longer, Dean just groaned in frustration and dragged him out of the bunker by the elbow while Kevin tried not to laugh.

Shopping with Cas wasn't nearly as bad as clothes shopping with Charlie. He picked out a few pairs of already well-worn jeans, and he chose a few Henley shirts like the ones Dean had that he had been comfortable wearing. He got some plain t-shirts, and some with designs on them that he said were 'interesting'.

Dean had to stop him when he wandered over to the sweaters, though.

"No, no, no. Only stuffy old men and douchebags wear sweaters."

Cas had done that head-tilt, 'I don't understand your human language' thing he did that Dean _so_ did not think was kind of adorable.

"I'm often cold. I think it has something to do with not having the warmth of my Grace. And I recall often wearing sweaters during my time as Emmanuel."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that lady of yours had you whipped."

"She never whipped me, Dean."

They were starting to get Looks.

Dean steered him towards the jackets. "Here, look at these; much cooler than sweaters. You can layer up as much as you want."

Cas ended up finding a couple of corduroy jackets that he liked. Then he started looking at the coats. "Dean, look what I found!"

It was a beige trench, a little shorter than his old one that had been completely ruined, and it looked like it might fit him better, but it was extremely reminiscent. Dean shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"Please?"

Ugh. Sam must have gave him tips on how to make the sad puppy dog face during one of their hospital visits. The coat went in the buggy, needless to say.

Next were shoes. Dean told him he needed a pair of boots, in case he ever decided to go hunting with him and Sam, and Cas also picked out a pair of black canvas, Converse knock-offs.

The next store they hit was a Wal-Mart. Dean never had liked the idea of buying used underwear or socks, it just didn't seem hygienic. You never knew what had been in those things before, and some people were just nasty. There are some things no amount of washing can take out.

Dean left Cas looking at the underwear, which was apparently a very difficult choice, and went to get him a phone. Preferably the less complex the better. He grabbed one that looked like it was geared towards senior citizens. This would do.

He met back up with Cas who had picked out a couple packs of underwear and socks, and a set of undershirts. On the way to the checkout, Dean took a detour through the grocery part of the store and grabbed a pie and a pack of beer. He thought they might need some more stuff at the bunker, but the essentials would do for now.

XxXx

Two weeks later and Sam came home. And to Dean it was not a day too soon. It was kind of like Sam needed to be there to be the grounding force that kept Dean focused, and mostly out of trouble.

Really, it was Kevin's fault. He was taking a much more lenient approach to translating the tablets, and he found it was actually easier that way. So he took breaks and explored the bunker.

One day, he found where Sam had stashed Thor's hammer. They had taken it from that auction place and kept it in the trunk, but when they found the bunker they figured it needed to go in there.

Well, one thing led to another and Dean still had that Braveheart wig that Charlie had given him when he led the army at the Battle of the Kingdoms, and Kevin happened to have a talking Iron Man mask in the trunk of his car.

Dean really didn't want to explain the giant scorch mark on the ceiling of the kitchen. Maybe Sam wouldn't notice. At least he'd gotten the electricity back on.

The day before he was supposed to pick Sam up, Dean went on an appropriate supply run. The doctors had told him Sam would still need a high-protein diet to finish healing up and get his strength back, so Dean loaded up on meat and eggs and lots of vegetables and fruits because Sam would be bitching if he was on a meat and eggs only diet. He also got about five jars of tasteless, clear protein powder.

Sam was just as excited as Cas had been to be back at the bunker. Almost a full month stuck in the hospital and he had been ready to start climbing the walls. Dean had brought him a set of clothes to change into, and they swamped him now, but with the diet plan, Dean was sure he would be back to normal soon.

As normal as things got with the Winchesters.

While Dean had gone to pick Sam up, Cas and Kevin were tasked with hanging up the large 'WELCOME HOME!' banner and setting streamers all over the library and war room, even the banisters of the iron staircase.

If Sam teared up a little, well, no one was going to say anything. This time.

That night they had a huge dinner, and it almost felt like a Thanksgiving. Up until a certain point when Sam had glanced up at the ceiling.

"Hey, where'd that scorch come from?"

_Damn it!_

XxXx

A few days later, Dean was in his room. He'd just showered and had gotten dressed and was towel drying his hair when there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

It was Kevin, and he looked pretty serious, and Dean guessed it was about whatever he had written in the notebook he was clutching to his chest.

"Uh, I wanted to come to you first with this, Dean."

"What is it?"

Dean sat on his bed and Kevin pulled the chair at the desk out. "I found a spell on the Angel Tablet. One calling for the heart of an angel and a human made one, an instrument to create love, and the Grace of a pure angel, one who loved humanity as much as God himself did."

"That's the spell Metatron used?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah. Everything has to be used. Cas doesn't have a Grace to get back, otherwise this spell wouldn't have worked."

Dean sighed, half in resignation, half in relief. "I'll break the news to him later. Does it say anywhere about reversing the spell? Getting the angels back into Heaven?"

"Only an Archangel or God himself can undo this. It's pretty permanent, Dean."

"Okay. Good work, kid."

Dean stood up.

"How're you going to tell Cas?"

Dean shook his head. "I have no idea."

XXxx

Dean managed to procrastinate all day. He told Sam what Kevin had said, he made lunch, he replaced some light bulbs that had blown out, he tuned up the Impala, he waxed the Impala, he pruned the grass around the bunker door, he even started dusting some shelves in the library before Sam started giving him pointed looks and motioning to where the bedrooms were.

Dean knocked on Cas's door. He'd taken to bringing all the info the Men of Letters had gathered on angels and was looking through them in his room. He said it was quieter in there, away from the ruckus Kevin and Dean sometimes caused. "Come in."

Cas was hunched over his desk, as expected, leafing through a large file that was throwing dust up in the air.

"Cas, there's something we need to talk about."

He must have heard the seriousness in Dean's voice because he set the folder down and turned in his chair.

"What's going on?"

"Kevin found the spell on the tablet. The one Metatron used."

Cas perked up. "Okay, what did it say?"

Dean felt his heart break a little. "All the Grace has to be used, or the spell won't work. I'm…I'm sorry Cas, but you can't get it back."


	2. Chapter 1: Denial

Chapter One: Denial

Cas's face froze. "No. That's wrong."

Dean looked exasperated for a second. "Come on Cas. You know Kevin can't be wrong reading these things."

"He translated incorrectly."

"No, you know he didn't. Look, I know you want to get powered back up, but you gotta face it. You're human now. And you're going to be for a long time."

Cas turned around in his chair. "There will be something in one of these files. I will keep looking."

"Cas…"

"Leave, Dean. I need to concentrate."

There was a moment of silence. "Yeah. Okay."

Cas heard the door click shut then waited a minute before his head sank into his hands.

What was he going to do now?

xxXX

A week later, and Cas had barely spoken to anyone. He kept to his room, coming out for meals and bathroom breaks and to get armfuls of more files. Sam said the denial was probably normal. He just had to keep working through it until he finally came to realize that the truth was he was human now.

Dean thought that was stupid.

Dean knocked on Cas's door and just walked in. Once more the familiar scene; Cas, files, dust in his hair.

"Come on Cas, you need to come with me."

"What for?" It was a defensive question, obviously he didn't like Dean interrupting his pointless research.

"Just come on." Dean dragged him out of the room by his elbow, but Cas didn't resist. He led him down to the shooting range, where he had arranged a small arsenal of the different guns that they usually used.

Cas huffed. "I don't need to know how to use firearms, Dean."

"If you ever go hunting with me and Sammy yes you do."

"I don't intend on going hunting. Not until I can be useful again."

Dean frowned. "You said you wanted to be a hunter."

"Yeah, when I had angel powers and could actually help people."

"Me and Sammy help people, don't we?"

Cas crossed his arms and didn't answer. "Okay, look. You're upset, I get it, I do. But I think it would help you to have something to concentrate on, other than burying yourself under half the library."

"Dean. I have to do that research. I have to find a way to get my Grace back."

"You mean the Grace that doesn't exist."

More sulking. "Come on. Shooting is real easy."

Cas gave in after a couple of minutes. "Fine. Show me how to shoot at the paper men."

Dean hadn't figured in that Cas still had casts on both wrists, but he didn't think it would put him off too much. He still had full use of his fingers.

First Dean showed him a hand gun, how to take the magazine out, how to put the safety on and off, how to load it, all the good stuff.

"Okay, now. Stand here. Stay straight. Aim where you want to hit. Okay, and pull the trigger."

Cas lowered the gun. "I did not mean to be aiming at the wall."

Dean chuckled. "Just try again. Both eyes open, remember."

This time he actually hit the paper. Nowhere near a target, of course.

"Practice'll make perfect, Cas."

XxxX

Over the next week, Dean managed to keep Cas occupied by learning different guns. It was made easier a couple days after the first lesson by the casts finally coming off. The skin under the casts was sickly pale looking and Cas actually seemed self-conscience about it, pointedly pulling his sleeves down over his hands. It was weird to see him so concerned about something like that, the guy who had taken a box-cutter to his chest without blinking.

When he had the full function of his hands, Cas got into learning the guns with the same gusto as he had been researching. Dean taught him all the different guns they had except for the sniper rifle, because just no, how they all worked, how to clean them correctly. There was almost an incident when Cas hadn't quite braced himself as much as Dean had told him too, and the kick-back from the shotgun knocked him on his ass. Dean had laughed at Cas' surprised face when he experienced getting the wind knocked out of him for the first time. There had almost been another incident when Cas reminded Dean that it was unwise to laugh at a man with a shotgun, but he was still winded, so it wasn't as threatening as it should have been.

After the guns, when Cas could actually hit a target where he meant to consistently, Dean decided to move on to different weapons. He had found a medium sized mostly empty room that would do good for practicing with knives and the machete, in case of vampires. Cas was much better at that, having used the angel sword for God knows how long.

And they practiced at hand-to-hand combat, which made Cas frustrated because a human body couldn't move as fast as he was used to. After some practice, though, Cas regained quite a bit of his reflexes. They quit with that after both Dean and Cas were bruised enough to be uncomfortable and Sam was laughing at them.

Dean had pretty much run out of distractions after he had literally gone through the entire arsenal in the trunk, and Cas could fight just about as well as he or Sam could. Cas returned to his file obsession. But at least he wouldn't be defenseless when he finally came to accept that he was human.

Then one day, a miracle occurred in the form of a phone call from Garth. There was a town in Florida where four unconnected women named Ashley had been gruesomely murdered. Too freaky to resist. Sam was still not running at a hundred percent, so he elected to hang back and do research from home if they needed it. He was mostly out of the bed now, and was sleeping about eight hours instead of sixteen, but he knew he would be basically useless in a fight, and the thought of sitting in the car for a long trip wore him out just thinking about it. He had to promise to eat plenty of meat while Dean was gone, and take the appropriate amounts of protein powder with every meal before he would tell Garth he and Cas would be on the job.

Dean went into Cas's room and tossed an empty duffle bag on his bed.

"Dean, what are you…"

"Pack up, man, we're headed for Florida."

Cas frowned. "What's in Florida?"

"Nasty murders, what else?"

"It's a hunt?"

Dean nodded, not being able to hide that he felt really excited. The perfect distraction and possibly a way to prove to Cas that he was still totally useful.

"Yeah. Sammy can't come, so it's just you and me. We ride at dawn."

Dean ran out of the room before Cas could make any complaints or refuse to go.

This was going to be awesome.

XxxX

Luckily, Charlie had sent all the stuff for Cas just a few days before. Dean had called and asked her to get some essentials; driver's license, a couple of scammed credit cards, in case of emergency only, and some fake ID badges. Dean got a faded old wallet out that he barely remembered still having and set it up for Cas. He was amused that the driver's license had him listed as 'Cas Novak'. She must have found Jimmy's name from those damn books of Chuck's. He made sure to slip a few bills into it, just in case, and a card with his, Sam's, Kevin's and Garth's phone numbers. He gave it to Cas and told him not to lose it.

The morning they left the bunker, they stopped at a mall they passed by to get Cas a Fed suit.

"Dean, don't think I don't know what you are doing," he muttered as Dean shoved him into a dressing room with a couple of suits.

"What're you talking about?" Dean sat down; this was probably going to take a while.

Cas's voice was muffled, working his way out of the ridiculous layers he wore to keep warm. "Taking me on this trip. You think my research is a waste of time and you want me to give up and accept my humanity."

"Yep. You got it. Never mind the Ashleys or that I don't like hunting alone."

"I'm next to useless, Dean. Sam would be more help to you."

Dean huffed. "You need practice, Cas. And you'll be loads of help. You always have been. You know, when you haven't been batshit insane. Or trying to take over the world one way or another."

"When I had powers. I was useful when I had powers."

"You'll see when you get there. This is gonna be good for you, man."

The door to the changing room opened. "You mean if I manage not to get either of us killed."

"Yeah, I…"

Dean looked up. The suit fit Cas good. It fit him real good. The lady going into the changing room next door carrying what looked like a bridesmaid's gown eyed him up and down, and it looked like she appreciated the view. Dean cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Looks good Cas."

He looked down at himself. "Are you sure? I feel kind of silly wearing this."

Dean was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, you'll, uh…get used to it. Change back and we'll wrap it up to go."

Cas turned to go back in the changing room. Okay, seriously uncomfortable now.

After he was back in his layers, they picked out a couple of ties and left the shop.

XxxX

They had been on the road for a couple of hours in silence. It wasn't a bad silence, and Cas was cool enough to tolerate whatever Dean found on the radio, unlike Sam who liked to bitch and moan.

After a while, Dean started telling Cas about the bands or musicians that were playing. Cas just listened to him talk, occasionally asking questions, but mostly watching out the window. When they passed road signs for places Dean had been with Sam, he would tell Cas what they did there, what they hunted.

After a few times of doing this, Cas smiled and looked over at him.

"Dean. You do know that I was assigned to watch over you ever since your birth?"

Dean swerved a little in the lane. "What?"

Cas chuckled, the first time Dean had heard him laugh since learning about his Grace. "My assignment was to watch over you, more or less from afar. They did not tell me why, and I never questioned my orders, but it was obvious you were important. There were times I was called away, in times of trouble, but I have witnessed a good deal of your life. That is why I was the one to pull you out of Hell. I was tuned into your soul more than any other angel, and I found you quickly."

"Oh. No, I didn't know that. Why'd I never know you were there?"

"Dean, you didn't even believe in angels, or a God until you were raised. How were you supposed to know? And as I said, I kept my distance. No interference."

There was a silent moment. "Do you remember the first time you ever prayed, Dean?"

Dean laughed, but it was forced. "Kinda hard to forget. I promised that Layla girl I would pray for her, and I did. God, she's probably been dead for…"

Cas interrupted. "She is married. Her husband's name is Eric. They have two children, a girl named Annie, and a son. Named Dean."

Dean looked over, and Cas had a small smile on his face. "You prayed for her life to be saved. Two months after you left her town, she went for a checkup and the tumor in her brain had completely disappeared. Her mother thanks the Heavens every day."

"That…That was you?"

"Yes. There were no orders not interfering with her, and Heaven wouldn't notice one small miracle."

"Why'd you never tell me?"

Cas sighed. "In the larger scheme of things, it never seemed to matter. Now, I understand it means a great deal."

Dean let go of the wheel with one hand and reached over and grabbed Cas' hand and squeezed it. "Cas, that means everything. Thank you."

xxXX

Hell hadn't really been hot. The pain, the terror caused most people to sweat, but really there was no true temperature. It just _was_.

Florida was what Hell was supposed to be. They say that shit about it's not the heat, it's the humidity, but in Florida it was both. And, of course, they got there in the middle of the day and breathing was enough to make you want to throw up.

Dean was seriously regretting not upgrading his Baby's AC system when he had had the chance. Even fully cranked it was still hot enough for Dean to have just stripped down to his undershirt and he was sticking uncomfortably to the back of the leather seat. Cas was even down to two layers, but he wasn't even sweating, the frozen bastard.

He pulled into a likely looking motel and parked while he got them checked in. The first thing Dean did when they got into their motel room was crank the old AC unit up as high as it would go.

"Ahh. That's better. Thank you, Jesus!"

Cas stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, holding his duffle bag. "Dean, I am still not used to this. Which bed do you want?"

Dean hummed, basically lying on the unit. "You pick man. No, wait, you're a frost giant, I get the bed closest to this beauty."

Cas puttered around, unpacking and exploring the room and the attached bathroom.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"The case of the multiple dead Ashleys? Perhaps we should begin working."

"Ugh, you're a slave driver, just like Sam."

Dean straightened up. "Fine, okay. I gotta take a shower. Do you need one?"

Cas shook his head. "Okay. Get changed into your Fed suit and we'll go down to the police station when I'm done."

xxXX

Dean had never hated anything in his life with such a consuming passion than he hated his Fed suit right now. Thankfully, the police station was not very far from the motel, and Dean managed to get a parking space near the door.

"Okay, now remember. You're learning, so let me do most of the talking. If you notice something I don't, let me know. And if you have any questions not related to the case, ask when we're alone, okay? Now, I'm Agent Clapton, you are Agent Harrison. Got it?"

He handed him the leather ID holder and made sure he knew which way it was supposed to go.

Cas nodded. "Clapton and Harrison. Got it."

The police station was mercifully cooler. Dean sighed in relief, and the secretary gave him a weird look.

"Hot out there," he explained leaning against the desk.

She looked unimpressed. "You must be from out of town. This is basically spring temperature. Tomorrow is supposed to be up five degrees."

Dean thought he might faint for a second.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm Agent Clapton, this is Agent Harrison. FBI. We're here about the serial murders."

They flashed the badges. Cas got it right this time.

The secretary looked confused. "Serial murders?"

"Yeah, gruesome, violent deaths of women named Ashley?"

She perked up. "Oh, the Ashley Angler! Yes, let me go get the Sherriff."

Cas glanced at Dean. "Ashley Angler?"

"I dunno, man, guess we'll find out in a minute."

The Sherriff was a big man, taller than Sam and built like a bear. He looked like he might be retired military.

"Hello, Agents. Sherriff Yates. I hear you're investigating the Ashley Angler?" He shook both their hands.

"Yes, sir. Why're they called that?"

"Well, the nearest we can tell, every victim has been murdered by a spear gun through the head, and then bludgeoned with something, we don't know what, but it's heavy."

Dean felt revolted. Maybe this hadn't been a great starter case. "Gross."

"Yeah. From the neck down the vics are just in pieces. No signs of forced entry to any of the houses. No connections. The two husbands have alibis, they were working. Other two lived alone. No evidence, fingerprints, hair, murder weapons. I'm actually really glad you two are here because this case has been driving me crazy. The only weird thing at all had been this black goop at all the houses."

Dean nodded. "Okay, so we'll need the case files and a sample of this goop. And we'd like to see the bodies."

Sherriff Yates nodded. "Rita here'll get the files. I'll take you to the morgue."

As they were walking down well-cooled hallways, the Sherriff turned to Cas.

"You're a quiet one, huh? Your partner does all the talking."

Dean went to open his mouth but Cas beat him. "I'm learning."

Sherriff Yates chuckled. "You liking it so far?"

They entered the morgue. "Besides the mutilated corpses of innocent girls, yes, I find this quite enjoyable."

Dean tried really hard not to laugh.

"Uh. Yeah. Well. Here you go. Knock yourselves out, Agents."

The Sherriff left and Dean snorted. "You know, you're really funny when you want to be."

"I was not aware I had made a joke."

Dean sighed. "Of course not."

He checked the name plaques on the wall. "Okay, Ashley Walker."

Dean pulled the tray out and pulled back the drapes. "Okay. Yep. Just like he said."

The head and neck were in one piece, except for a huge hole right under the chin going clear throughout to the top of the head. Everything else was basically mush.

"Man, it's almost like she exploded. There's just chunks here. Whatever did this was some seriously…Cas?"

Dean had been focused on the body. He turned around to look for Cas and found him holding onto the island in the middle of the room for support, his face a sickly green color.

"Cas?"

Dean covered the body back up and shut the door. "Hey, what's up?"

Cas looked like he was going to cry. "I never _had_ to smell before. Things that were unnecessary could be blocked out. And all that blood, Dean…"

Dean made what he thought were calming shush noises. "Okay, it's okay. Not everyone can stand it at first. Hell, Sammy's first morgue experience, I had to catch him before he cracked his head."

Now that the body was put away, some of the normal color was coming back to Cas's face. "I've seen so much blood, Dean. Why would it bother me now?"

Dean shrugged. "Like you said, maybe the smell? If you blocked it out before, it may just be affecting you more now. Or maybe certain human senses are different. Like, remember the coffee?"

Cas had to smile a little remembering the coffee, and Dean felt more confident that he wasn't going to pass out now. His first morning in the bunker, Dean had made coffee. Cas had admitted that during his Biggerson's exile, he had become fond of coffee. But as a human, that first sip was so different. It tasted so much better than anything he had ever put in his mouth before. He had said as much and Dean tried not to blush and Kevin nearly died laughing.

"So, maybe you're just re-experiencing things for the first time again."

Cas nodded. "Yes. I think you are right."

"Is it okay if I look at another one?"

"I am prepared this time."

"Okay. Ashley Voorhees."

Dean pulled the tray out. He checked on Cas, who had come to stand on the other side of the tray. He was pale, but he was steady. Dean lifted the drapes.

He sighed. "Exact same thing. Head, neck, smush."

Cas was examining this time. "How could this have happened, Dean?"

"I dunno, man. Vengeful spirit? But how is it moving? Cursed object? But why only Ashleys? We're gonna go check out the houses and talk to some people. Maybe that'll clear it up. Hopefully later, when it's not scorching."

They made their way back to the front, where a pile of case files and an evidence jar with black goo in it were waiting for them.

Dean handed a business card to the Sherriff. "Call if anything comes up. Thanks for your help."

"You boys have a good day."

XxxX

Back at the motel, Cas was looking through the files while Dean was about to open the jar and poke at it with a plastic spoon.

"Okay, Cas, what are you getting?"

Cas sounded frustrated. "Nothing. Like the Sherriff said, this is a mystery. The only clue is the one you have there."

"Well, I'm pretty sure this is ectoplasm. Which means this is one pissed-the-hell-off spirit. I've only seen a couple of cases where this stuff was generated."

"From the notes, they say it was dripping from the wall nearest the victim, they checked the walls but they were all sound."

"Awesome."

"So what do we do next?"

Dean huffed. "I don't want to go out there yet, but we should go to the houses. There has to be something missing here."

Cas brought the files with them on the drive to the first victim's house.

"Ashley Richardson. She was 24. Lived alone. No family in town. When she didn't show up to work and didn't answer her phone, co-workers called the police. She worked at a real estate firm. The last person to see her was her boyfriend, Gary, who was at her apartment the night she died. But then another friend, Anne, called her after he left and they talked so it wasn't Gary."

Dean pulled up outside Ashley's apartment complex just as Cas was finished reading. "Okay, well, let's see what we can find."

It was a nice little apartment. It was in a new building so everything was very modern. It wasn't decorated much, like the girl who lived here was just visiting, kinda the way Cas was refusing to do anything to his room.

Dean turned on the EMF detector. It immediately went all red.

"Whoa. Weird."

Cas was looking around. "Is that anomalous?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's freakin' anomalous."

"Just because you're hot doesn't mean you need to be bitchy."

He felt a numb feeling go through his head, because, _did Cas just tell him he was hot_, and then he remembered that Cas meant he was hot in the of-course-they-turned-off-the-power-and-therefore-the-AC-to-her-room way.

"They found Ashley here," Cas was saying, standing next to an end table with a drawer on it, "and they found the ectoplasm leaking here." Cas patted the wall behind him, consulting the case file.

Dean opened up the drawer, pulling it all the way out. "Aha! Yahtzee!"

He held out what was obviously a hex bag.

Cas just tilted his head in confusion. "Why is a vengeful ghost leaving hex bags?"

XxxX

As it turned out, all four houses had hex bags in them.

"It's a ghost witch. A witch ghost." Dean was pacing in front of the AC unit. "Freakin' witches! But how is a ghost making these hex bags, then placing them? How does it travel?"

Cas was sitting at the small table looking at the disassembled bags. "A ghost this powerful could easily possess a person. If the person touched whatever is grounding this ghost, then they could possess them as long as they needed. Long enough to make a hex bag then place it and perform the ritual."

"Yeah, but no one close to any of the victims reported any loss of time, and they would have noticed that much."

"Maybe it is just possessing one person, then."

"But none of these girls were connected. No one would have been in all four places."

Cas shrugged. "Maybe a maintenance worker?"

"Maybe…Or maybe this ghost is so powerful, that it could make and place the bags by itself, without being carried by an object or possessing someone. I've never seen one that powerful before, though."

Dean sat down across from Cas and set up the laptop Sam had let him bring along. It was an older one of Sam's. 'It's slow from all those Asian porn viruses, but it still works,' he had said.

"I think we should try to find out who this might be. That may be more helpful."

For a while they worked in silence, Cas learning what he could from the hex bags, and Dean slowly researching on the Internet.

"What're you finding, Cas?"

"Not much to go on. It's modern work, I know that. Someone who was perhaps not a very powerful witch in life, but death and anger has made it stronger. There's nothing here suggesting that it may be anyone ancient, or from another culture."

"Okay, I think I may have found something. Ten years ago, a woman was murdered here. Same scenario. A spear through the head and the body beaten to a huge pulp. Her name was Mason, and it was her sister who committed the murder."

Cas moved his chair around to see. "Does it say why?"

Dean read on. "Uh, yeah. Mason had just returned from her honeymoon. She had eloped to Vegas then went on a cruise. The man she eloped with, two weeks earlier, had been her sister's fiancé. Mason's sister's name- Ashley."

"Are there more details? Where the murder took place?"

"Uhm…Ashley ambushed Mason, knocked her out. Took her to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Mason tried to fight back; Ashley grabbed a decorative spear off the mantelpiece, stabbed her, and then…beat her repeatedly with a small sledge hammer."

Dean clicked around. "Okay. They did cremate the body, what parts they could salvage from that old house, but there's probably some bits and blood sticking around. And yeah, this Mason girl was definitely a witch. There was the thing with her sister's fiancé, but there were also a few lotteries, she won a bunch of contests…There's more here than just really good luck."

Cas frowned. "But why now? Why did she just randomly start attacking Ashleys?"

"Well, it takes a few years for a spirit to get vengeful. Her sister is still in jail, so I don't know. I think she just stewed and stewed until she got so twisted by her anger that she became this…thing. And the last thing she truly remembers is rage at a woman named Ashley."

"We have to go burn that house down, don't we?"

Dean grinned. "See? You're a natural."

XxxX

Dean took a nap so that they could go burn the house in the dead of the night, when there was less chance of getting caught. He'd suggested that Cas take a nap as well, but he did not feel tired. In truth, Cas only slept when he absolutely had to. He did not like sleeping as a human. It made him feel vulnerable, and he often experienced nightmares. Usually he was in Naomi's office. It reeked of disinfectant and the smell often stayed with him after he woke up. He also frequently dreamed of killing Dean, in practice as he had done in Heaven. It still felt instinctive, like it was something he was supposed to do. When he woke up, the feeling was gone, but it worried him. Cas was frightened that being too close to Dean would result in harm to his friend, and that was something he could not permit to happen. Not on his account. But it would eventually. It always did.

Cas looked over at Dean, sleeping quietly. He was at peace, and Cas felt a familiar warm feeling spread through him knowing this. The warm feeling had been happening more and more often around Dean. Dean, who seemed to have forgiven him _again_, Dean who was trying to help him be more and more human. Dean who had professed to needing him.

But that was before. He doubted Dean needed him anymore, not in the same way.

Cas was still watching him when Dean's eyes fluttered open. There was that warm feeling again.

"You know, that's even creepier now that you're human."

"What is?"

"Watching me in my sleep."

Cas felt embarrassed, a newer emotion he hadn't quite come to terms with yet. "I apologize. I suppose it's a force of habit by now."

Dean stretched. "Twelve thirty, I think we can go now. Did you sleep any?"

Cas shook his head. "I find I don't need much sleep, even as a human."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I believe that. We'll talk about it later. Come on, let's go light up this place."

XXxx

The house was on the far out reaches of the town. It was extremely derelict, the outside mostly rotten, the roof was caved in in some places, and the yard was grown over.

Dean and Cas got out of the car and went to the trunk. Dean hauled a couple bags of road salt out and a couple gallons of kerosene, and then opened the arsenal. He loaded two shotguns with salt rounds and then stuck a handful of extras in his pocket then handed more to Cas, then handed him one of the guns. He also handed him a hand gun and took one for himself.

Dean grabbed an iron crowbar then shut the trunk. "This is a really powerful ghost, Cas. We aren't taking any chances. Hopefully she won't show up, but if she does, you know what to do, right?"

"Yes, I understand, Dean."

They carried all their supplies across the weed-full yard, and carefully went into the house, watching out for rotten areas of the floor. The first thing Dean did was make a salt circle near the door. "Safe zone," he declared. "Since she was killed here, in this room, I think we should just do this one. The rest will probably go up pretty soon, as shitty as it is."

Dean and Cas started salting and keroseneing the large living room. It was going good, until Cas got in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room. He felt cold and could suddenly see his breath form in front of him.

"Dean. It's cold"

"You're always cold."

"No. It's _cold_."

Dean immediately jumped in the circle, which he was closer to. "Cas, get over here, quick!"

Cas made it about halfway across the room before he stopped, looking like he had been jolted.

"Cas?"

He just stood where he had stopped, and stretched out his neck. There was a bizarre grin on his face, freakishly reminding Dean of when the Leviathans had finally taken over Cas's body.

He stretched up onto his toes. "Ohh, I _like _this body!"

It was Cas's voice, but it definitely was not him speaking. He looked down at himself. "Oh, yeah, this one will definitely work."

"Cas?"

Cas looked up at him with an extremely uncharacteristic bitch-face. "Not even close, sweetheart."

"Mason."

"Ohh, you boys did your research! Nice work."

"Let Cas go."

There was an eerie laugh. "Yeah, no. Oh, he's fighting in here, your Castiel."

Dean noticed a bit of blood trickling out of Cas's nose. Yeah, he was fighting her, alright.

He grimaced. "Too bad though. I'm keeping a hold of his body until you agree not to burn me."

Dean shook his head. "No deal, lady." He was thinking about what to do. He could try and throw the crowbar; if it hit Cas, Mason would be thrown out, but it was heavy and he was too far away. Cas could easily step aside from it. He had his shotgun in his hands, but he really didn't want to have to do that to Cas. He knew from experience it hurt like a son of a bitch.

Cas was grasping at his head. Blood mixed with ectoplasm was pouring out of his nose now. He laughed again.

"Angel, you're losing. I can feel you getting tired in there. Just give up…"

Cas jerked again. "Dean, quick…"

"What?"

"Do something! Please!"

He jerked again as Mason took control again.

"He's totally in love with you, did you know that, Dean?"

Dean felt cold all over. _Crap_.

"Yeah, he hasn't fully accepted it yet. He's afraid of you…Afraid of these _feelings_." Another witchy cackle.

"Oh, he's _screaming_ now…"

Dean cocked the gun. "Sorry about this, Cas."

The round hit him right in the chest and Mason shot backwards out of Cas's body, screeching as she left. Cas was knocked back onto the floor, gasping for breath. Dean jumped out of the circle and picked Cas up under his arms and mostly dragged him to the safe zone. He was shaky on his feet, but Dean thought he could stand on his own for a minute.

"You're alright, Cas. Just give me a minute and we're getting the hell outta here."

Dean was flicking his lighter when the wind started. "_Shit_. Seriously?"

Dean was so focused on trying to get the fire started, he didn't notice the salt line eroding.

He heard the now creepily familiar laugh right behind him. Dean jumped and turned around. Cas was steady now. Mason was driving again. He waved his hand and Dean flew across the room, banging into the fireplace mantle. He groaned and sat up, freezing.

Mason had pulled the hand gun out of the back of Cas's jeans. The nose bleed had started up again, heavier and smearing his face black and red.

"You're more trouble than you're worth, Dean Winchester."

He aimed the gun. Dean noticed one of Cas's eyes had become really bloodshot. His hand shook a little then steadied. He pulled the trigger.

Dean felt a piercing pain in his right arm. He clutched at it and groaned in pain. He hadn't hit a bone or anything, it had just hit muscle. Looked like Mason wasn't a good shot. "God _damnit_!"

He looked back up at Cas and was a little shocked. Cas had taken back control. He was shaking and looking around like he had completely forgotten where he was.

"Cas. Cas! Snap out of it!"

Cas looked at him. "Dean, what…"

He was panting; Dean knew the symptoms of an oncoming panic attack just as well as anyone. "Cas, focus…"

Just then, Cas seemed to come back to himself. He shook his head and aimed the gun at the floor and shot. The fire finally started. There was an ear-splitting scream, and Mason flew out of Cas again, disappearing in the familiar burst of flames.

Dean got to his feet. Cas was weirdly pale and looked like he was going to pass out or burst into tears.

"Come on, Cas, we need to leave."

"Dean, I didn't…."

"Come on. We need to go." He grabbed Cas's wrist with the hand not covering the bullet wound and pulled him out of the house, not letting go until they got to the car.

xXxX

They made a pitiful pair walking into the motel room, Dean with blood dripping down his arm and Cas with his face and throat smeared with blood and ecto. He was still really out of it, so Dean continued to lead him by the wrist, grabbing the first aid kit and the 'medicinal' whiskey out of his bag on the way to the bathroom. Dean had Cas sit on the side of the bath tub.

"Cas? Hey, man, I need you to focus."

Cas just kind of blinked at him. "Cas, I need your help. I'm hurting, okay? You need to help me."

Cas actually managed to focus. "What?"

Dean sat on the closed toilet lid, and took a quick swallow of the whiskey. "Dude, what did that bitch do to you?"

Cas sighed, and a tear slid down his face.

_Oh. Oh, no. No crying. I can't handle crying._

"I'm sorry Dean. I tried to stop her, I promise."

Dean unconsciously grabbed a hold of Cas's wrist again, squeezing gently. "I know. I know you did. You remember it all, huh?"

Cas just nodded, eyes trained on his knees.

"Well, we can talk about it later. Look, I really do need you right now…"

Dean took his shirts off, trying to get a look at the hole in his upper arm.

Cas covered his mouth. "Oh, _God_, I _shot _you!"

"No, that bitch shot me. But I can't get this bullet out on my own. So I need you to stay calm and give me a hand."

Dean managed to talk him through it. There was a good deal of half-mangled screaming, and Cas silently cried the whole time and his hands shook, but fifteen minutes later and Dean's arm was bullet-free, stitched and bandaged up.

"Fwhoo." Dean reached over and grabbed the whiskey bottle, knocking back a couple more mouthfuls. "Let's not do that again, huh?"

Cas had sat back down and was staring at his knees again. Dean sighed and got up, turning on the sink to let the water get warm and grabbing a few washcloths, first washing the blood off his own hands and his arm.

"Okay. You gotta look up for me." Dean sat on the toilet, facing Cas. They were close enough their knees were bumping against each other. Dean had to reach under Cas's chin and pulled his face up. He started washing off the blood and the ectoplasm that had gotten smeared around his face and down his throat. Cas kept his eyes closed.

"You probably got a killer headache, huh?"

Cas finally opened his eyes. They were still glossy and teary, but that only served to make them bluer. Dean started feeling the same kind of uncomfortable as he had in the suit shop.

"Yes, actually. The witch was very powerful."

"I got something for that."

Dean kept washing his face. "You did a really good job in there, you know."

Cas gently shook his head. "I got possessed by a witch and almost killed you. I don't consider that a 'good job'."

"Well. I do. And since I'm the boss of you, you can't argue with me."

Cas managed a small smile. "You are not the boss of me."

"I'm the boss of everybody."

There was a brief silence. But Dean knew they couldn't ignore it forever.

"So. Are we gonna talk about what that witch said?"

Cas immediately pulled back from Dean, and almost fell back into the bathtub.

"No. No, we are not."

"I think we are."

Cas looked up at the celling, like he was praying. "Dean. I…It's nothing personal. But there is nothing to talk about. The witch lied. I feel for you the same way you…feel for Sam. It is not a romantic love."

"Oh."

Cas tilted his head. "That disappoints you?"

"Well. No. Not…exactly."

Cas's eyebrows shot up. "_You_ have romantic feelings towards me. You hoped that what the witch said was true and we could engage in human intimacies!"

Was it hotter than it had been before? It felt hotter.

"_Human intimacies_? No! Look, I wasn't hoping for anything. But yeah. Maybe I feel differently for you. Maybe it's that 'profound bond' thing. It's just…You're always gonna be special to me Cas."

Cas became still and let Dean get another warm cloth. After it had dried, blood could be a bitch to clean off, and some of the black ecto goop that had dribbled out made Dean uncomfortably remember the Leviathan again.

"You did not want me to get my Grace back," Cas muttered after Dean started on his throat again.

Dean paused. "No. It's selfish, and I get that. But Cas, you gotta stop running from me. From us. I…I told you I needed you and it's still true. You getting your Grace back would mean you being locked in Heaven. And no, I don't want that. I never wanted that, even before...Just didn't know what to say."

Dean was refusing to look Cas in the eye during any of this. The few sips he'd had of the whiskey was not near enough to make this conversation okay.

"Because I am special to you?"

Dean had already gotten up and rinsed out one of the cloths so he could work on Cas' hands, which were smeared, too, but with Dean's blood. He managed to look at him now.

"Yeah. 'Cause of that."

After Cas was blood and goop free, Dean made a motion with his hands. "Come on. Shirts off."

He almost laughed at how all the blood paled from Cas' face and then went back up, making him blush. It was still so weird when he got embarrassed by something.

"Why?"

"Dude, I shot you, too, remember? I know it was just rock salt, and nothing probably got through the massive layers you wear, but I know it still hurts, so let me take a look."

Cas looked like he was almost going to fall back into the tub again, but he slowly started taking things off. The jacket, the t-shirt, the long-sleeved Henley, and then the undershirt. Dean had painfully put his own t-shirt back on, so maybe Cas wouldn't be so nervous.

But Cas wasn't able to get the last two shirts off himself, grunting in pain, and finally just letting Dean do it. Dean was able to gently pull the shirts off over Cas' head, trying to keep any of the material from touching his chest.

The entirety of his chest and even down to his lower abdomen was a raw looking reddish color, but nothing was bleeding. Dean leaned closer from where he had perched again on the toilet lid.

"This is gonna sting, man. Sorry in advance."

He had gotten a fresh cold cloth and dabbed at the rawest looking areas. Cas hissed and flinched, but didn't fall back.

"Okay. I don't think anything needs bandaging. No open places. But you'll be uncomfortable for the next few days, I can tell you that. And there's probably gonna be bruises."

Cas just nodded, and stared at the floor, picking up his clothes. "Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I find that…It is harder to say things. But, I think you are special to me as well."

Cas glanced up and he was happy he did. Dean was smiling at him, the care-free smile that few people rarely saw. It was almost like seeing his soul again. Cas understood now, the phrase about something taking your breath away.

"And I plan on…sticking around. For as long as you will have me."

Dean leaned up against the bathroom door. "So you're giving up on the angels?"

Cas sighed. "Dean, I believe the time of the angels is over. What is left of my kind must learn to acclimate, and I could not help them with that. Not as a God, and now not as a human. They must figure things out for themselves now. Besides, I imagine most of the ones left would be wrathful should they know that I was responsible for the fall of Heaven."

He stood up. "As you have said, you and Sam are my family. And my place is with you." Cas could not forget the number of times he had left Dean, or betrayed him. "I will not leave your side again."

Dean felt his own face getting hotter now. "Well. Uh, that means, it means a lot Cas."

He turned and walked into the main room, pulling a bottle of Advil out of a bag. Cas had followed him. "Here. Take about three of these. It should help with the witch hangover."

Cas popped into the bathroom to get some water for the pills and Dean sank onto the side of his bed, sighing. With this being the first hunt in a long while, he'd forgotten how emotional the aftermath could be. Especially with a dude with his training wheels still on.

Dean flopped back and lay down, everything catching up, and even with the nap he was beyond ready to go to sleep. He heard Cas creep back into the room and settle on the other bed.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Why don't you think you need to sleep?"

Cas was quiet for a minute. "There are unpleasant dreams. I prefer not to have them."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I get having nightmares. But not sleeping will really mess with you. I wish I could help you out with them, but I still get nightmares. Hell…Purgatory. Just, try closing your eyes and thinking of something that makes you happy. Then take a bunch of deep breaths until you fall asleep. Sometimes it helps. And, hey, I'm right over here. You can wake me up, I don't care."

"Thank you, Dean."

"No problem. 'Night, Cas."

"Goodnight."

XxxX

And when Dean woke up just after dawn, Cas was still huddled under his covers, sleeping soundly.


	3. Chapter 2: Anger

Chapter Two: Anger

About a week after Dean and Cas returned to Kansas, successful from their mission, Kevin called a 'meeting'.

He set three large, plain looking folders and the two stone tablets down on the kitchen table Sam, Dean, and Cas were sitting at.

"Here it is. My magnum opus."

Kevin rolled his eyes at Dean's blank expression. "It means 'great work'. Everything's translated."

There was a second or two of a kind of silent awe as they all looked at the pile.

"So what now?" Sam broke the silence.

"Now, I am going to take these folders. All the information from all three tablets are in these. I'm gonna hide them in different rooms of the bunker, hopefully where no one will ever find them. And you guys are gonna sit right here at this table while I do that. I put a web cam on top of the refrigerator and linked it to my phone. If any of you move, I'll know about it."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, all that time you were on Garth's boat made you over paranoid."

"Never thought I'd hear you tell someone off for being too paranoid."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Kevin. What are you going to do with the tablets?"

Cas had been quiet since they got back home. He said he was working on a project that Sam had asked him to help with, but neither of them were very forthcoming about it.

Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm a…I'm leaving. I'm going to break the tablets into five or six pieces and scatter them across the country, hopefully where they will never be found. One day maybe I'll get to the Leviathan tablet and can do the same to it."

"Then what are you going to do? Back to school?"

Dean grinned at him. "It's what you've been wanting, kid."

He just shrugged. "I dunno. I think you were right, Dean. You don't leave this life. Maybe I'll hook up with Garth. He's still hunting, and I know he kept talking about wanting a partner."

He grabbed up the three folders. "I'll be back. And I'm watching." Kevin waved his phone at them then headed down into the bowels of the bunker.

Dean chucked and leaned over to pick up the paper he'd grabbed from the store that morning. "Garth and Kevin. Hunting. Together. God, I hope one day I get to see that."

Cas pulled out the largish red book he had been writing in for the last few days. "Hey, is that the project?"

Dean had been really curious about it. Cas just looked at Sam and started writing.

"I thought it would be cool if Cas could put some stuff down for us. You know, stuff he remembers. How history _really_ happened. Could be useful one day."

Cas was intent on the book. Dean knew that this was Sam's own way of distracting Cas from what was going on, a way to get his mind on something else.

"Hey, that's awesome. Just don't put anything about me in there, okay?"

He shrugged his shoulders and kept on writing. "Why not? You're the most important person I have ever met in my existence."

Dean just looked at his face, unmoved from the journal, jaw hanging open, looking like a land-dropped fish. Sam really resented Kevin right now because he would dearly like to be in another room.

Cas finally looked up. "Along with you, too, Sam, of course. Was that rude?"

He had gotten better about picking up on atmospheres in rooms, but still wasn't good at knowing what they meant. He thought Sam's awkwardness was from not being included as one of the most important people Cas had ever met.

"No. No, 'course not, Cas. You're fine." Sam smiled at him, hoping to be reassuring. Dean had disappeared behind the paper and Cas took back to writing. So only Sam noticed that Dean never turned a page.

xXXx

For a couple of days, it felt kind of empty in the bunker without Kevin around. True, he had usually just been in the library, but when he had taken breaks he was fun to hang out with now that he wasn't so high strung.

But now he was off dropping the Word of God down wells, or whatever, and the bunker seemed different.

Dean got a call from Garth a few days after Kevin left. It sounded like a simple Rougarou case, and Sammy was pretty eager to start hunting again. The town was only a couple states over, so Dean asked Cas if he would be okay on his own for a little while.

Cas had been different since they got back from Florida. He was almost kind of stand-offish, especially around Dean, and he didn't say much, even when asked a question. He'd also started going on walks through the bunker, and he would disappear for a long time before resurfacing, still carrying around his book.

He assured Dean he could survive by himself. He had been human for a while now, and he wasn't a child.

So Dean and Sam went, Cas waving goodbye to them from the parking area in front of the bunker.

Dean watched him from the rearview mirror before he turned a corner, and Cas was gone.

XxxX

Besides Dean being a little distracted by worrying whether or not Cas was doing okay, the Rougarou hunt was successfully completed in three days, with some bruises and a scratch up the side of Sam's face being the only injuries.

Sam had really enjoyed himself. It had felt so great to get out of the bunker, and away from Dean obsessing about his diet, and eating crappy diner salads again. He really felt alive for the first time in months. It was awesome.

Sam was sitting in a booth waiting on their food while Dean had popped off to the bathroom. They were on their way back home and he practically had to beg Dean to stop for food. Dean seemed to think they needed to be back at the bunker ASAP. Sam thought it was ridiculous. Cas could totally handle himself for a few days. Although he had made sure not to tell Dean about the few horribly misspelled texts he'd gotten asking to be reminded exactly how the stove was supposed to turn on and that there was a really bad thunderstorm and did that mean he was supposed to hide in a closet.

When they got back, Sam was going to remind himself to teach Cas how to text. He wished Dean had gotten him a phone with an actual keypad, but when it came to Cas and technology, simpler was better.

The food came and Dean came back to the table a minute later. They ate in silence for a while, until Dean set his half-eaten burger down and started to fidget.

Sam kept eating. "What's up?"

"Uh. You know, that thing we said at the hospital? A couple of days after you woke up?"

Sam rolled his eyes. It was something Dean would have categorized as a chick flick moment, and he was actually surprised Dean had brought it up at all, thinking he would repress it. After the almost devastating results of the trials, Dean and Sam had agreed that, to keep their relationship together, both as brothers and as partners, they had to promise complete honesty in the future. Dean had done most of the talking, halting a lot and staring at the ceiling, and Sam was still too weak to laugh at him, but he really wanted to. But they had promised each other. So this must mean Dean had something he needed to tell him.

"Yeah, I remember. What's going on?"

Dean was pointedly looking everywhere that wasn't Sam. "The Florida hunt, the one me and Cas went on. Something, kinda-sorta, but not really happened."

Sam sighed and just rolled his eyes. He _knew_ they'd both been funky since they got back, but he wasn't going to ask. "Okay."

"Okay. Well, uh, that ghost-bitch was possessing Cas, and she told me that he was in love with me." Dean said it all really quick.

Well, duh, there was news to nobody. "Uh huh."

"Don't be surprised or anything," Dean finally snapped.

"Dude, I'm not. As a third party observer, it can be really uncomfortable to be in the same room as you two sometimes."

Dean actually looked confused. "Huh? Why?"

"'Cause of the sexual tension, dumb-ass," he answered around a mouthful of salad.

His brother turned red. It was kinda cute. "No. There is no…There's not any of that going on. Ever, like, I'm not even…And he said it wasn't true later. And…Just shut up, Sam!"

This was actually turning adorable. "Yeah, because Cas doesn't know how to lie. And I know you don't swing that way, but Cas is a special case."

Dean didn't bother denying anything this time. "What do you mean, special case?"

Sam shrugged. "You're attracted to women. You _aren't_ attracted to men. But you _are_ attracted to Cas. He's, like, the exception. You fell in love with his personality first and now you're doing…Actually, I don't wanna know what you're doing, just keep it out of the common areas."

Dean flushed again. "Dude. There is no…doing."

"Maybe that's the problem," Sam mumbled, but Dean was too busy glaring at his hamburger to hear him.

A minute or two later, after Dean had eaten some more, he asked, "So, you think Cas likes me?"

Jesus, what was this, middle school? He thought about being a smart-ass, but decided against it. "Yeah, Dean. I think he really likes you."

Sam was proud of the level of sarcasm he'd kept out of his tone.

"So…It's not gonna bother you?"

"What?"

"Me and Cas…Maybe being a thing. One day, in the far off future."

Sam couldn't help himself. "Dean. You and Cas have been 'maybe a thing', since about a month after you met. Yeah, I'm used to the idea by now."

xxXX

They had stopped at a rest area because Sam had started bitching about having to pee, and to be honest, Dean wanted some chips. They were only a couple hours from the bunker, so while Sam was gone, Dean pulled out his phone to call Cas.

It rang a few times. "Hello?"

"Hey, Cas. Sam and me are about two hours out."

"Okay."

Something was weird with his voice, like he was angry or frustrated.

"Everything okay there?"

"Yes." It was clipped. Something had pissed him off.

"Uhm. Alright. See you soon."

There was a pause and Cas' voice was slightly softer. "Drive carefully, Dean. Goodbye."

Then the phone clicked off. Dean stared at it a while until he saw Sam walking over to the car from across the parking lot.

"Alright, Sammy. Let's get home."

XxxX

Even though it had been an easy hunt, it was still Sam's first after having nearly died, and Dean knew he was tired. He fell asleep about ten minutes after leaving the rest stop. Dean turned the radio down to where he could just barely hear it, and kept on driving.

When he pulled over to the side of the road, and saw that Cas had turned the outside light on for them, Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him. Now that he had one, every time he realized he was _home_, it was the best feeling he could remember having in a long time.

He poked at Sam, who grunted at him irritably. "What?"

"We're home. Let's go in so you can get in bed." Sam groaned, whether it was relief or irritation at having to walk all the way to his room, Dean wasn't sure.

Sam went right in, and Dean followed with their bags. He closed and locked the door behind him, and flicked off the outdoor light, just dropping the bags for now. They'd deal with them later.

Cas was sitting at a table in the library, picking at his cuticles and he looked like was angry and anxious.

"Well, we're back."

Cas tried to smile. "Hello Dean. Yes, I saw Sam go to his room. Is he okay?"

"Fine. It'll take him a while to get back into the swing of things. I think he's just wore out."

He nodded, still picking. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"I…I made a mistake."

Well, that sounded vaguely ominous. "What kind of mistake?"

Cas stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. "I'll show you."

He definitely sounded pissed off, but Dean could tell it was at himself, not at him, which was a relief. Cas led him into the kitchen and sighed heavily before picking a pan off of the stove. The outside and bottom looked fine, but the inside was charred and there was some lumpy blackened ick.

"Dude, what did you do?"

Cas turned that look of anger at Dean, and he resisted taking a step back. He hadn't realized it yet, but even without his Grace, Cas still managed to look all Heavenly wrathful, and Dean was reminded of when Cas had threatened to throw him back into Hell.

"Look, Cas, it's alright. I'm not gonna laugh at you, just tell me what happened."

The wrath dimmed and he turned it instead to the pan in his hand. "I tried to make eggs. Like you do sometimes for breakfast."

"Alright. How'd you start?"

Cas set the pan on the counter. "I cracked the eggs in a bowl, like I've seen you do. And I threw away the shells. And I mushed them up with a fork."

Dean nodded. "So far so good."

"Then I sprayed the pan…"

"Huh? I usually use butter, and I didn't know we had any cooking spray."

Cas tilted his head and turned around and opened the cupboard under the sink. This couldn't be good. Dean turned every effort he had into not laughing, no matter what. This had clearly affected Cas, and he had promised. No mocking.

He turned around. "I remember Daphne making eggs. And she always used a spray. This is the only kind I could find, and it looked the same."

It was air freshener.

Dean only just managed to behave himself. "Well, everyone is a little different the way they cook. Uhm. But the stuff under the sink isn't cooking stuff. That's usually cleaning stuff. Only use the stuff in the pantry and the refrigerator to cook with."

Cas pointed at the can in Dean's hand. "Then what's that?"

"Well…It _is_ a spray. But it's air freshener."

"Oh. I thought it smelled odd."

Dean smiled, and put the can back under the sink. "Okay. Then what did you do?"

"I put the eggs in the pan and turned the stove on."

"What setting did you put it on?"

Cas turned and pointed at the dial on the front of the stove that read 'HIGH'. "I thought the highest setting would cook the eggs the fastest."

Dean just shook his head. "They're kinda delicate, and it depends on how you're making them. If you were doing a fried egg it would've been perfect."

"Uhm…Okay. Well, I went to get a plate out. I suppose I shouldn't have turned my back on the stove. I looked back around and there was some smoke. I turned it off, but…"

He picked the pan up and turned it so Dean could see the damage again. "I'm very sorry for ruining this…"

Dean scoffed. "It's not ruined. Those pans'll last forever. Here, I'll show you."

He snatched it out of Cas's hand and turned to the sink. "Big gobs of this stuff…" He poured some liquid dish soap in the pan. "And some really hot water…And let it soak overnight and in the morning I'll take one of these scrub brushes to it and it'll be like new. Or, as new as it was sixty years ago."

Cas looked guiltily around the kitchen. "So…I did not destroy anything?"

"Hell no. Not even close."

"That's good to know. Thank you, Dean."

"Hey. Tomorrow morning, I'll make eggs, and I'll walk you through it. How's that?"

Cas shifted and frowned at the ground. "Okay. That sounds fine."

Dean took a couple steps closer. "You alright, man?"

"I'm fine. Just tired. I've been working on the journal most of the day. I think I will go to bed now."

Cas immediately left the kitchen and Dean just stood there awhile, wondering what might be going on.

xxXX

Over the next couple of days, Dean and Sam both noticed the change in how Cas was acting. He had gotten worse over the time that they had been gone on their hunt.

Sam was the first to catch on that Cas became particularly irritated when one of the brothers tried to teach how to improve on something, or learn something new. He really noticed it when he sat down with Cas in the library and started teaching him how to text properly.

After he listened to Sam explain how the buttons worked, and sent a few test texts to Sam's phone, he disappeared in an angry silence to wherever it was in the bunker he went to hide at. Sam figured it was just frustration getting the better of him.

It was Dean, predictably, who made the levee break almost a week after they got back.

The morning had been wonderfully sunny, but by the middle of the day clouds started building and soon it was gently raining. Sam had gone to take a nap. He'd been up most of the night, translating some ancient Babylonian text he'd found in one of the rooms. Cas still retained all the languages he knew, and could've just read it off for him, but Sam wanted to translate it on his own. Stubborn ass.

Dean was busy trying to fix the sink in the kitchen. It had started dripping a few days before and it was getting on his nerves. Drip, drip, drip, until he insisted he could hear the dripping from behind his closed bedroom door.

He heard some movement out in the front room and sat up from under the sink. It was boring, and he wouldn't mind company while he was working, even though Cas was being all mopey and ticked off.

He came out and Cas was standing next to the door, a leather messenger bag he recognized as one of Sam's strapped across his chest, his trench coat draped over his arm, and he was looking at the ancient umbrellas that stood near the door.

"Hey, Cas."

He obviously hadn't heard Dean walk in, because he gave a little jump at his voice and turned around. "Hello Dean. I thought you were in the kitchen."

"Yeah. I was. Just wanted to know if you didn't mind hanging out with me. Kinda boring, working on plumbing."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't know."

He chose an umbrella from the stand.

"Are you going somewhere?"

Cas didn't look at him. "Out."

Dean started feeling frustrated. "Yeah. Where are you going to go?"

"I just told you. _Out_."

"_Out_ where?"

Cas dumped both the coat and the umbrella down. "It is none of your business, Dean! I can go where and when I want. I am not your prisoner to keep in this bunker, just for the sake of your selfish abandonment issues! If I want to go, I can go!"

Dean felt like he'd been slapped. Did Cas really feel that way? That he was being kept here against his will?

"Well, do you _want_ to leave? Hook up with Kevin, or something? 'Cause if you want to leave, leave. I figured you would, just like you always do. And never saying goodbye, you fucking coward. Just like old times."

Dean felt a tear roll down his face, but he refused to acknowledge it. "You know what, screw you! Get out! _GO_!"

Cas' face had turned red and he was actually shaking with rage. "_Fine_. I will."

He yanked the door open, and snatched up the umbrella. "And screw you, too."

The door slammed shut and it echoed like a death toll.

Dean walked up the stairs and picked up the trench coat that Cas had left behind. _Again_. He sank down on the top step and started crying harder. It smelled like the coconut shampoo Cas used and the must of ancient books.

After a few minutes, Dean felt someone sit next to him.

"I heard screaming. Came out to see what was up."

Dean swallowed and made sure the tears were off his face before he looked up.

"I fucked up, Sammy. Told him to leave and he went."

Sam put his arm around his brother's shoulders. "He'll come back. Cas always does."

XxxX

It was five hours later, and the rain had picked up from 'gentle drizzle' to 'Apocalyptic downpour'. Dean had long since finished working on the sink, and after he paced around the library for fifteen minutes, Sam had banished him to some other part of the bunker, because, 'Dude, you are making it impossible to concentrate'.

He eventually ended up in his room, laying down on his bed and looking up at the ceiling because that's all that he felt he could do.

After about an hour, he heard Sam's voice coming from the library. He assumed he was on the phone with Garth or someone, but then the words became clearer.

"What happened to you? Jeeze, you're gonna catch pneumonia!"

Dean jolted right out of the bed. _Cas_.

He all but ran into the other room. Cas stood at the bottom of the stairs, totally drenched and shaking like he was going to fall apart. His lips and nails were a mottled blueish color.

Sam took control of the situation. "Dean. Go get towels, and bring them to his room."

He effortlessly scooped Cas up and took him down the hall to where the rooms were. Dean vacantly did as he was told and got as many towels as he could carry in his arms.

Sam had set Cas in the chair at his desk and was trying to talk him out of his clothes.

"Come on, man. We've got to get you dry. You can't get hypothermic and die on us now, right?"

Very slowly, Cas managed to nod, and Sam started helping him out of his shirts. "Dean, get his hair dried, would you?"

He started to pick up a towel, when Cas spoke his first words since returning. "I don't want _him_ to touch me."

The words and the atmosphere in the room were as frigid as Cas was. Dean felt his heart plummet; he vaguely remembered throwing the towel at Cas' head, then storming out the door, and slamming it behind him.

xxXX

Half an hour later, and Dean was still drying up the _lake_ that Cas had brought in with him, when he heard Sam come in.

"Not now, man."

"Okay. I'll leave you alone. Just wanted you to know, Cas is fine."

Dean didn't respond. He just kept drying. "And he wants to talk to you."

He snorted. "Well, I'm not talking to him!"

Sam sighed. "Whatever. I'm gonna go to bed now."

"Yeah. 'Night, Sammy."

xXXx

Five days.

The air in the bunker was so tense at times, it felt like you could cut it with a knife. And not like a dagger knife, but like a shitty diner butter knife. Cas and Dean absolutely refused to even look at each other for more than a second. Sam had kind of been lying when he told Dean that Cas had wanted to speak with him. He thought it might get them talking, but no dice.

They would only communicate to Sam. Which after the first couple of days made him want to either lock them in one of the bunker's closets until they made up or starved, or chase them around wielding a sawed-off.

Meals were extremely unpleasant. There was nothing like sitting around a table that was used to comfortable laughter and joking, and suddenly it felt like they were eating dinner after a wake. Sam had tried to start a few conversations, but after Dean had glared at him and Cas refused to look up from his plate, he gave up.

On the fifth day, Sam reached his breaking point. Dean sent him a text asking _him_ to ask Cas about some book he'd been looking into.

He stormed into the library and Dean was sulking and he could hear Cas doing something in the front room. "CAS! Get in here!"

There was some fumbling noise, and after a minute he came into the room. Dean made to stand up and leave, but Sam shoved him back down. "Stay."

"You two are pissing me off. I'm gonna go to town and get some stuff. When I get back, you better be speaking to each other. Civilly. With indoor voices. I don't care how, just get it done so I'm not in the middle of your drama anymore."

He huffed his way out of the room and shortly they heard the Impala pull out onto the road.

Cas had sat down in a chair, a good distance from Dean. There was a long and very uncomfortable silence. But, as Sam had said, Cas always came back to Dean.

"I apologize for the way I spoke to you. And the things I said." Cas practically whispered the words, but they carried through the room.

"Just because Sam threw a bitch fit, or because you're actually sorry?"

"You have every reason to doubt my sincerity. But yes, I am sorry."

Dean still wouldn't look at him. "You're sorry an awful lot, aren't you?"

Cas huffed. "We're supposed to be making amends, not fighting more." He stood up and started pacing. "You can be so difficult to deal with sometimes."

Dean finally fixed his gaze on him. It was the first time he'd really looked at Cas since he saw him shivering in his room. His eyes had bags under them and they were bloodshot from lack of sleep. He'd picked his cuticles until they were scabbed over and then had been picked at some more. Dean shoved any amount of sympathy deep, deep down.

"Yeah, well. You said as much. How long have you thought of me as your prison guard, Cas?"

He quit his pacing, chewing on his lip now, almost making it bleed. "No. I don't think that. I _want_ to be here. I do. I promised not to leave. I wanted to go for a walk, that's all. There's a place…And you just _pushed_ and I wanted my privacy and I snapped at you for it, and I'm _sorry_."

Dean sighed. Time to man up and give in. No matter what Cas and he were, nothing would ever change the fact that Cas was his best friend. And yeah, being at odds with each other was stressing them all out. And Sam didn't need the extra stress, either.

"I knew you weren't leaving. But you wouldn't tell me where you were going so I over reacted. I mean, you were just carrying that little bag, I _knew_ you weren't going far. And then you threw in that 'abandonment issues' thing. And you're right about that."

Cas carried on from there. "And then you brought up my past betrayals and threw them in my face so _I_ over reacted. By doing the exact thing you were accusing me of."

He paused. "You were crying."

Dean rolled his eyes. Of _course_ he would have picked up on that, of all fucking things. "So sue me."

There was another silence, but it wasn't as stiff as the ones before. "Where did you go, Cas?"

He hummed. "Like I said. There is a place, behind the bunker. It's where I've been going when you seem to think I disappear into one of the rooms. There is a small trail, I found it one day. It is a very peaceful place."

Cas sat down, now across from Dean. "There are trees. I was alright for a while, but then the rain came down harder and I got soaked."

Dean frowned. "You took an umbrella with you."

Cas leaned his elbows on the table and gripped his hair. He was agitated and angry again. Not good. "I couldn't figure out how to open it. By the time I did, it was useless."

He sighed and stretched his arm out, pulling the sleeve of his shirt up over his left forearm. There was a long, red scratch on the inside of his arm.

"Cas…"

Dean said his name in the gentlest way he knew how, but that seemed like the wrong thing to do.

"Do not coddle over my accidents. I am not a child, Dean."

"Now you're being hard to deal with. And I am not treating you like a child."

Cas yanked his sleeve down and sulked. "You've said so in the past. When I was powerless. How should now be any different?"

Dean distantly recalled some insults. But he insulted everybody.

"I don't think of you as a child. I think of you as my friend, who just needs to learn a few things. Hell, we're always learning stuff. Sam had to teach me and Bobby how to use a computer. And he was a condescending bitch the whole way through. At least with me. Bobby would'a shot at him."

That earned a small smile.

"Why'd you come back?"

The smile dimmed. "Because I couldn't feel my feet anymore and I would have rather faced your anger at me than drowning in a downpour."

Dean sighed. The question he didn't want to ask. "Why did you not want me to touch you?" It came out as a whisper. And they both knew that what he really meant was 'why did you not trust me?'.

Cas looked at his hands, picking at the scabs. "I promised to never leave your side, for as long as you would have me. You cast me out. I thought I had broken your trust. And I was afraid you might hurt me, for leaving again."

Before Dean even registered what he was doing, he had gotten out of his chair and moved to pull Cas up by his elbows. Then he was hugging him close, holding him like he had in Purgatory.

"Hey. I will never hurt you on purpose. And if I ever do by accident, I promise to make it up in any way possible." He ducked his head down, closer to Cas' ear. "You are special to me, remember?"

Hesitantly, Dean felt Cas reach around him, trying to return the embrace, but seemed like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Dean pulled away, letting him off the hook.

Cas had a tear rolling down his face and Dean almost reached up to wipe it away, but held himself back.

"Dean…All these emotions. They're mostly new to me, and I don't understand many of them. I feel…Anger. For no reason, and you and Sam are the only ones around, and I always feel awful when I've been…snappish with one of you."

Cas sat back down. "I think it happens when I feel the most useless. And I feel sad and afraid. I'm not used to fear. It's a relatively new sensation. Then I feel irrationally angry. Is that normal?"

Dean smiled and sat next to him. "Buddy, that's about as human as it gets. Yeah, it's normal. You get scared and you think 'this is stupid, what the hell am I afraid of', then you get pissed off. It's a daily occurrence for some people. That explains why you've been all pissy when me or Sam try to help you with stuff. You get afraid that you're useless and we'll kick you out for being a burden, right?"

Cas looked surprised. "I…Yeah. That's what I've been thinking."

"Well, get over it. Sammy and me…We know a thing or two about burdens, and you aren't one. I know having someone tell you that isn't gonna be enough, and you'll still get bitchy at us, but we can take it. No one is gonna throw you out. And if I get pissed off and ever tell you to leave, you tell me to fuck myself and go hang out in another room until I'm chilled out. Got it?"

Cas managed a smile. "Yeah. Got it."

"Good. Now, not a word of this to Sam. If he knows I know about all his psycho-babble crap he'll never let me live it down. We'll just say we talked it out. No chick flick moments involved."

Then a smile lit up his face. "Oh, no, better idea. Let's pretend to still be mad, and when he comes in he'll throw a shit-fit."

Cas sighed and leaned his head on his hand, elbow resting on the table. "I liked the first idea better."

xxXX

It was a few days later, when the sun came out and there wasn't much to do, that Dean asked Cas a favor.

"Hey. I know it's your private get away, but would you mind showing us that place you were telling me about? Behind the bunker?"

Cas stiffened over Sam's laptop; he was supposed to be practicing on learning how to use it, but Dean hadn't heard any typing or clicking, so he supposed Cas had given up on it and was just sitting there, glaring at the screen. Sam looked up, interested. Dean had told him the very basics of their making up, and he had told him Cas had a secret place.

He sighed and shut the computer lid. "Sure. You would've found it eventually anyway."

True to Dean's guess, Cas' general mood hadn't improved much. He was touchy, and God only knew what might set him off on some days, but Dean and Sam just went with it. This would pass. They had all put up with enough shit from each other to know that he'd settle out eventually. Human emotions were a bitch to deal with, even if you had been human for thirty years already.

The brothers followed Cas out the front door, and up the bank to the side of the bunker. "See? I noticed a trail."

If he squinted and turned his head just so, Dean could make out a path, almost completely grown over. Cas followed it, like it was clear as day, and Dean and Sam just managed to keep up with him, trying not to trip on roots and branches. After about ten minutes of walking there was a steep downhill, and then the trees thinned out. Cas led them out, and they were greeted to a wonderful sight.

It was a wide open space, closed in by the forest and the back wall of the bunker. The stream they could hear ran through it, almost straight down the middle. It came off a hill over rocks, making a small waterfall. A rotted old wooden bridge crossed it. There were a few trees dotted here and there, the largest on a small hill not far from the stream. The rest of the ground was covered in tallish grass, with wild flowers growing everywhere. It looked like a place from a storybook, like the little girl who found a secret garden.

Sam was the first to speak. "Wow…Cas. This place is great! No wonder you come out here all the time." He bounded away from the other two, like a kid in a playground, checking out the stream and the different flowers.

Dean chuckled, happy to see Sam happy. He looked over at Cas, who was just gazing out, looking more chilled out than he had been lately.

"You see any animals out here?"

Cas shrugged. "Birds mostly. Lots of birds. Insects."

He turned to face Dean. "I was bitten by a mosquito." He said it very seriously.

"Yeah. Those things can be a bitch."

Cas started walking towards the stream and Dean followed. "I haven't seen many fish. Just a few small ones. They come up to eat the minnows."

He stopped at the edge. "The bridge is impassable, but I found these rocks. Be careful. They can be slippery."

They hopped over three rocks, and Dean almost fell over, but luckily Cas didn't notice, although he thought he heard Sam laugh at something.

Cas walked up the hill to the bottom of the tree and sat on the ground in its shade, facing away from the bunker. "This is my favorite spot."

Dean sat next to him. He kinda got it. He wasn't big into the nature stuff, but he could appreciate a place like this. Serene, in a way. It was very _Castiel_.

A bumblebee buzzed over and landed on a purple flower nearby. Dean smiled and looked at Cas.

"You like the bees, right?"

He smiled, but it was a sad kinda smile. "Yes. I like the bees."

"Hey. What's up?"

Cas sniffled, and Dean realized he was close to tears. God, not crying again. Too much fucking crying. "What's wrong, Cas?"

"I used to be able to see. I saw _everything_, Dean. The bees, their trails, how they communicated to each other. I could see the flowers for what they really were, I could tell you every detail of this tree's life. Now it's just a _tree_. A stupid tree."

Dean sighed. "Part of being human, Cas. I'm sorry to say it. All the trees are 'just trees'. But it's a poplar tree, if that helps any."

Cas just leaned back against the trunk. It didn't look like he was going to cry now, so Dean leaned back, too.

"Mom loved poplars. There wasn't a freeze that year and so all the blooms came out on the one in our yard, and me and Dad gathered them all up because she loved the smell. That was just before she had Sammy."

"I was under very strict orders not to interfere. I knew the demon was close, but when I asked my superiors I was told to stand down."

Dean looked at Cas, confused as hell. "What are you talking about?"

"Knowing what I know now, even though it would mean never getting to meet and know you…If I could go back, I would have stopped the demon before he fed Sam, and I would have saved your mother."

Shit, now he was going to fucking cry. _Damn it_!

"Yeah. I know you would've. But I'm kinda glad I got to've met you."

They were both leaning back on the tree, and their legs were almost touching. It wasn't hard for Dean to move the few inches over and pick Cas' hand from where he had it near his knee and tangling their fingers together. Cas made no effort to pull away.

Dean rested his head back against the tree and smiled. "It is so nice out here."

Cas hummed in agreement. "Have you ever come out here at night?"

"Once. But the stars were just stars."

Dean looked over at him, realizing how close their faces were. "I'm sorry."

Cas was looking down at his lap, but squeezed his hand. "It's okay. I never really cared for stars anyway."

Dean was a good enough liar to usually know a lie when he heard one. But he let it go.

Sam came around the tree and stood in front of them, looking too much like an oversized toddler. "Hey, guys, look what I…"

He noticed their hands together, and the intensity of the moment. "Uh…I'm interrupting something. Never mind."

Grateful for the interruption, because things were getting a little too heavy, Dean called him back before he went very far. But he wasn't about to let go of Cas' hand. And so far, Cas wasn't complaining.

"Get back here. You weren't interrupting! What didja find?"

Sam knelt down in front of them. "Check it out."

He held his hands out and there was a Monarch butterfly walking around. "I think he likes me. Hasn't flown off yet."

"Yeah, well don't go naming it and we aren't starting an insects-in-a-jar collection. Have you forgotten the Indian burial ground? 'Cause I sure as hell haven't."

Cas was leaning forward to look at it closer. "They are beautiful creatures. The Monarchs were my favorites. Any time I visited The Garden in Heaven, the place was always full of them."

They could have jars. They could put thousands of jars in every room in the bunker. Indian insect murder-rage against the white man be damned.

But just then, it flew off, blending in with a patch of orange and yellow flowers not very far away.

XXxx

Dean was plotting something. Sam could tell when he was plotting, and the signs were flashing around everywhere. What Dean may be plotting was beyond him, but he kept searching around the bunker for stuff. When asked what he was looking for, it was met with a 'mind your own business, Sam'. The plotting had started the afternoon that they had visited the garden behind the bunker, so Sam figured it had something to do with that.

Three days later, Dean called a meeting just before noon. And by 'meeting', he had yelled, "Sam! Cas! Get your asses in here!" from the library.

"Okay, guys. Garth has a poltergeist in Portland."

"Cool. When are we going?"

"You and Cas are leaving tomorrow morning."

Yeah. Dean was plotting. "_Me_ and Cas?"

"Did I stutter?"

Sam just glared at him. "Look. I've hunted plenty with you, Sam, and I've hunted plenty with Cas. But you two haven't worked together a lot. You know, without me along. So if all three of us are gonna be hunting together in the future, which we are, then we need to be a team. Know each other's strengths and weaknesses. So think of this as a…bonding experience."

Sam continued glaring. "You're up to something."

Dean smiled at him. "Nope. Bonding. Portland. You and Cas. Don't argue. But before you guys go, me and Cas need to run an errand. So start packing."

XxxX

"Dean. Why are you sending Sam and I on this hunt?"

He huffed and watched the road. "It's a poltergeist. Sam could go on his own and be fine. But, you need the experience, and really, it doesn't take three people. Too many cooks in the kitchen fucks up the soup."

Cas didn't say anything for a few minutes. "Okay. Well what is this errand we are running?"

"It's something I should have done a long time ago. You were dead set on not being human for much longer, so I didn't push it. But I'm not sending you out without being one hundred percent protected."

"What are you talking about?"

Dean pulled over in front of a tattoo parlor. "Anti-possession time."

He looked over and Cas had paled. "Don't worry, buddy. You've hurt worse, believe me."

"Yeah. I'm sure I have." Cas let out a sigh. "Where should I get it?"

Dean shrugged. "I've seen people get them all over. The Trans' had theirs on their arms, Charlie had hers put between her shoulders. I met a dude in Montana who had his on the sole of his foot. And you know where mine and Sam's are. It's up to you."

Cas fidgeted all the way into the front room of the parlor, picking at his nails and biting his bottom lip. A chick with about eighteen piercings came to the desk. "Hey. You got an appointment?"

"Yeah. It's under 'Luigi', but this is the guy getting it." Dean slapped Cas on the back.

"Okay. Follow me." She led them to a chair. "You gotta idea about what you want?"

Dean pulled out a sketching of his own tattoo from his jacket pocket.

"Alrighty. Where're you getting it, Hun?"

Cas glanced at Dean nervously first, then pulled his jacket off and rolled the left sleeve of his shirt up and drew a circle with his finger about an inch below his elbow on the inside of his forearm.

"Okay. Let's get started. I'm Lettie, by the way."

"I'm…Cas."

"Cool. I'll be right back."

Dean sat at his right side in a fold out chair. "Not gonna lie. It'll hurt some. But you can grab my hand if you want."

Cas glared at him. "I'm not a child."

He shrugged. "Maybe if you just wanna hold my hand."

Cas' mouth dropped open a little, but Lettie stuck her head back in. "Forgot to ask. What colors do you want?"

His eyes darted back to Dean's. "Up to you, man."

"Uhm. Blue?"

"Cool."

"I dared Sam to get his in hot pink, but he was too chicken shit to do it."

That actually got a small laugh from Cas. Lettie showed up with a few bottles of ink. "Which shade, Hun?"

Cas inspected each one, eventually pointing at one that was a dark blue, almost purple looking. Indigo, Dean supposed it was called.

Lettie left again. "It'll work, right?"

"Yeah, as long as it's that design, the color won't matter."

Not too much longer and Lettie was firing up the machine. And before the needle even touched his skin, Cas reached over and touched Dean's hand. Not squeezing. Just holding.

xxXX

Twenty four hours later found Sam and Cas well on their way westward. Dean had sent them off earlier in the morning with a 'good luck' and a 'Sammy if you mess up my Baby I will never let you eat another vegetable in your life'.

Sam played much different music on the radio than Dean did, and at a much lower volume. Conversation wasn't much. Cas didn't really feel like talking, and it seemed neither did Sam. The quiet was nice, but became uncomfortable after some time. Perhaps this bonding experience Dean had planned was a good idea. But what was he supposed to say? Social interactions, even with Dean and Sam were still a little uncomfortable.

After a while, Sam pulled over onto an exit ramp. "Are you hungry, Cas?"

He looked at the time. It was after one. "Yes. I am."

"What do you say about Biggerson's? I know you probably got tired of their food…"

"No, actually. I never ate, just ordered coffee. I'd like to try the food."

Sam smiled. "Great. They have these awesome salad bars."

They stopped to refuel the car first, but then they pulled in front of the Biggerson's. Cas wasn't sure if it was one of the ones he hid in, but he doubted no one would recognize him if it was. He had changed since then, hadn't he?

Soon, Sam was situated with a salad that looked just a little too big for one person to eat on their own and Cas had a large cheeseburger and some french fries.

Sam hummed around a mouthful of lettuce and tomatoes. "Dean's too paranoid to come back and eat here, after the Leviathan thing, but man, I missed these salad bars."

Cas remained quiet. He wasn't sure what to say. This was making him nervous, and when he got nervous he got scared and then he got angry. He didn't _want_ to be angry.

"Cas? You're shaking."

He glanced at his hands. So he was.

"Yeah. I am."

"Can I ask why?"

Cas still wasn't sure what to say. "I'm scared, Sam."

It was the truth. And he felt better for saying it. "What are you scared of?"

"Being this…human."

Sam nodded. "I kinda get it."

Cas felt that anger building up again. "How can you possibly 'get it'?"

He just smiled. "I was hooked up with an angel once. Jimmy described it as being chained to a comet, but that wasn't even close. Lucifer let me in, in a way. Kept me up front for a while, which ended up being his mistake. I got to see things the way you did. I got to feel how it was to fly. I only felt it for a few days. But to be as powerful as you were, for millennia, and then…not. I can't imagine it. But I think I can kind of understand."

Cas looked down at his lap. "Now I feel ashamed."

"Hey, it's alright, Cas. My feelings don't get hurt that easy. Now, what else is bothering you?"

He felt nervous mentioning it. "This case. The last ghost possessed me and I shot Dean. I fear I will cause you some harm. And Dean may not forgive me for that again."

Sam laughed around his mouthful of salad. "Then we're both afraid of the same thing. Dean told me if I brought you back in anything less than 'mint condition', he was going to strangle me."

Cas smiled at that. "Then we will work very hard to protect each other."

XxxX

In the end, it was an easy case.

Some old newspaper articles, an old lady in a nursing home, and then Sam was leading the spirit of the late Mr. Lewis Thermon all through his house, distracting him while Cas burned his journal that he had hidden under a floorboard in his bedroom closet.

The only injury sustained at all was a splinter Cas got pulling up the board. It came out easily enough and he swore not to let Dean know about it. It really had been a good experience for them both, and by the end of the case, Cas found himself talking with Sam with the same ease usually reserved for Dean. He came to realize that, even though it was different with Dean, he felt that Sam was special to him as well.

The connection with a brother, one he had not felt since he had ripped Heaven apart. It was a good feeling.

They had just left Portland and Sam turned on the radio. "Hey, Cas. You pick the music."

"I thought the driver was…"

"No, that's because Dean is an asshole and likes to bug me. Pick a station."

Cas fiddled with the dial until he came upon a melody he liked. Sam explained that it was a station that played older music, but of a different genre of rock that Dean was preferenced to. He said he would usually listen to a station like this if he was feeling particularly sentimental.

They listened to it until it faded out over the Rockies.

Sam turned the radio off. "I remember these."

"Remember what, Cas?"

"These mountains. It was a slow process, but Uriel and I enjoyed watching them come up. Higher and higher."

There was quiet while Cas enjoyed the scenery.

XXxx

When they arrived back at the bunker, it was just before lunch. They pulled their bags from the back of the car and walked in to find that Dean had made pizza when Sam had called ahead to let him know they were about an hour out.

Even though they had already told him the basics on the phone, Dean wanted specifics on the case. How everything went, were there any cool action sequences, did the car run okay, Sam, you didn't get sick, did you, etcetera.

After a while, Sam went to lie down, saying he was tired from the driving.

Dean was putting their plates in the sink. "Hey, Cas, one of these days we gotta teach you how to drive, so we can all switch out on hunts."

"It looks relatively easy, I imagine it won't be a problem."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. That's what Sammy said. He almost flipped the old junker of Bobby's we were borrowing, and I thought I was gonna get flung out. Takes practice. And a decent car. I think Bobby's might've had a bad break line."

"Did he know which car you were taking?"

"Hell no, he was off with Rufus. By borrowed I kinda meant stole." He turned and grinned at Cas, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Are you going for a nap too, or do you think you could come on a walk with me?"

Cas tilted his head. He had slept in the car. "Where are we going?"

Dean's face lit up. "I gotta surprise for you."

He led the way out of the bunker and up through the trail to the garden. Cas started to feel confused. He had found the place, what could Dean possibly have to show him that he hadn't already seen?

Dean stopped just before the trees cleared out. "Okay, cover your eyes."

He looked very excited. Dean could be so childlike sometimes. When Cas didn't immediately do as he asked, he looked put out.

"Come on, humor me, man. I won't let you trip on any roots, or anything, I promise."

Cas sighed then brought both hands up over his eyes, effectively blinding himself. He could feel Dean's over-exuberance radiating off of him. He steered him by the shoulders, leading him out into the garden.

"Alright…And, open!"

Cas uncovered his eyes and blinked in the bright light. Dean had brought him to the stream. Where the old, rotten bridge had once been, there was now a new one. It was painted a light green that almost blended into the grass, and even had arches on the sides underneath, and there was a step leading up onto it.

"Ta-da!"

Cas felt slightly overwhelmed. "You built this while we were gone? By yourself?"

"I'll have you know I worked in construction for almost a year, thank you very much."

Cas knew Dean was mocking him, but he didn't mind. "Is it okay to…"

"Yeah, of course. The paint's all dry, and I jumped on it a few times to make sure it would hold up."

He had to laugh at that, and walked over to the bridge, taking the step up. He walked about half way across, and then sat down. His feet didn't quite touch the water. Dean sat next to him. "This is why I didn't put up a banister."

Cas leaned over a little. "I can see the fish from here."

"Yeah. I think I spoiled them. They were pissed off I was making so much noise so I started throwing little chunks of bologna at them."

Cas was definitely overwhelmed now. How was this even possible? After everything he had done to hurt Dean, after what he had done to Sam, how could Dean even begin to forgive him enough to make something like this?

But this was a happy moment, and Cas didn't want to spoil it. "It's perfect, Dean. Thank you."

Dean got to his feet. "But wait, there's more! Come on, I got something else to show you, too."

_Something else_? Cas followed Dean towards the large tree on the small hill. "Do I have to cover my eyes again?"

"Nah. This isn't much." Dean led him to the other side of the tree that was out of view from the stream. There was a bench there, a darker green than the bridge was. It was just a simple thing, slightly curved with wide arm rests, large enough for two people. "You said this was your favorite place to sit, and I thought it'd be cool if you had a place to sit without having to be on the ground. Unless…You like the ground, I mean you don't _have_ to sit on it if you don't…"

He was cut off because Cas had launched himself the couple of feet that separated him and Dean and was embracing him tightly. Dean let out a faint 'oomph'. Unlike Cas, who normally didn't quite know what to do with holding someone, Dean almost immediately wrapped his arms around Cas' waist.

"It's just a bench," he murmured a moment later.

"I don't deserve it," Cas whispered in return. Dean was rubbing circles with his fingers that he could feel through his shirts just above the small of his back.

"Sure you do. You've been through a lot Cas, we all have. It's okay to have something good every once in a while."

"I've done too much bad to have this much good."

Dean pulled back a little bit so he could look Cas in the face but didn't move his arms. Cas moved his so he wasn't squeezing Dean as much as he had been, and now that he realized how hard he'd been holding him, he felt a little embarrassed.

"Can't you let yourself be a little happy, Cas? Just for me. You've done plenty of good stuff too. Just say 'thanks' and be happy for a few more minutes."

Cas felt his face grow warm, something he disliked, another human thing he couldn't control. But he nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Dean. In this moment, I am very happy."

He even managed a smile, just to prove it, and Dean smiled back, before faltering slightly and dropping eye contact.

"Uh, Cas…"

He wondered what was wrong, then he realized how close he and Dean still were. Arms wrapped around each other longer than what Cas even knew was the social norm.

"Personal space?"

Dean laughed breathlessly and looked back at Cas. "No. Not really."

One of Dean's hands that had been on his back moved up so he was cupping the side of his face, running his thumb gently over Cas' cheekbone, and he knew Dean could feel the heat radiating off him by now. Dean shuffled a little bit closer, and he was closer than they had ever been before, like this. Cas was starting to feel a little dizzy, but he couldn't find it in himself to care, because he could count every one of Dean's freckles, if he wanted to.

"Breathe, Cas."

Oh. Right, that's why he was dizzy, he had forgotten to breathe.

Then Dean was even closer, and Cas realized he was being kissed a second after Dean touched his lips. The small part of his brain that was still functioning reminded him that he was supposed to be reciprocating, so he did. Dean made this sweet little humming noise, and Cas was relieved. He wasn't the only one enjoying this.

He was more than enjoying it. Dean felt bright, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and Cas wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. Because Dean was with him. Then Dean was pulling back, and Cas opened his eyes again, not even remembering closing them.

They smiled at each other, Cas feeling embarrassed again, although he couldn't say why. Dean took a step back, and Cas let his hands drop from his shoulders. "Come on, let's go back in. I finally got around to picking up a TV while you guys were gone, and a whole bunch of movies. Time to start on your pop culture education."

Dean grabbed his hand and they walked that way back into the bunker, where he showed Cas the new TV room, not far from the library. There were a couple of arm chairs and a slightly dusty love seat that Dean must have uncovered. It looked very homey. Dean slipped a disk in to the built in player, and pulled Cas onto the love seat with him and holding him close.

While the movie was interesting, and Dean's almost constant commentary about the goings on of the USS Enterprise and its crew, and how this movie sucked, but it's the first one so we gotta watch it before 'Wrath of Khan' amused him, Cas had to say the most fascinating experience was his head leaning against Dean's chest the whole time, hearing his heart beat.

xxXX

Dean knew the shit would hit the fan eventually. It was just like had told Cas that day, something good can come along, and you should enjoy it. But with their life and profession, moments like that don't often last very long.

Over the next week there was more kissing and sitting together on the ratty old love seat. Cas had cried when Spock died, and Dean didn't want to ruin the plot line, so they had just laid there together, all cramped up, kissing gently until Cas had mostly forgotten what he was so sad about. Then he had socked Dean in the arm for not telling him that Spock was going to be resurrected.

If Sammy had noticed a change, he didn't mention it. He didn't sit in on the Star Trek marathons because Dean would say his favorite lines along with the movie and he left about five minutes after that.

Dean wasn't sure if he should tell Sam about the change in Cas and his relationship. Although, really, there wasn't much to tell, besides that Cas was noticeably happier for longer periods than he had been before, although he still disappeared out to his garden for hours on end. And Dean, well, he was happy, sure. Cas was the second most important person in the world to him, and getting to be with him this way was wonderful.

But. He had to be practical and realistic. This was not the apple pie domestic bliss, they were all still hunters. And sooner or later, the other shoe would drop.

It happened about a week later. They all went into town on separate missions. Dean needed a part for the Impala, Sam needed some kind of software for his computer, and Cas had heard about a used bookstore that he hadn't known they had.

"Yeah, because we don't have enough books here," Dean had laughed.

"These are all manuscripts and spells and lore. I want to try reading fiction."

Sam had given him a few suggestions on some titles he may enjoy, and they had all gone off in their separate directions, agreeing to meet at the small restaurant that they had found that was really good. It was still a diner, but it was a _nice_ diner.

Dean was on his way there when two figures caught the corner of his eye down an alley next to the dumpster outside the diner. They were standing close, and it was obvious they were having some kind of fight. After years, Dean knew how to tell. One was wearing a snooty looking maroon business outfit and the other was wearing the same dark grey Triumph shirt Cas had snatched from his dresser this morning when he came to tell Dean breakfast was ready.

_Shit_!

XxXx

Cas found the bookstore fascinating. It didn't smell so old as the books in the bunker, but you could tell the books here had been loved and cherished by someone before. There were new books mixed in with the used ones and were considerably more expensive, but he would rather have ones that had some history to them.

He considered the list Sam had given him, and read the summaries on the backs and read the first few pages. He ended up with a copy of 'Paradise Lost', which he had kind of already read, but it had been hundreds of years ago, the novelization of 'The Wrath of Khan', that had _not_ been on Sam's list but he spotted it and knew he must have it, the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy and 'The Hobbit', 'A Tale Of Two Cities', 'Moby Dick', and a copy of 'Grimm's Fairy Tales', that had lovely illustrations in it.

It occurred to Cas as he was handing the money over to the nice elderly lady who ran the shop, that besides his clothes, the wallet Dean had given him and a Velcro-on watch that Sam had bought him in Portland, these were the first material possessions he truly had for himself. He could stack them on the small shelf on his desk.

Cas thanked the lady and left the shop, a light tinkling following him. He walked in the direction that he thought the diner was in, but soon found himself a little lost. It was hard to get too lost in a town like this, though, and a man who dressed very reminiscently of Bobby Singer pointed him down the side walk, then to cut through the alley there.

Halfway down the alley, Cas got a very odd feeling, and he could relate it to a sense of knowing you were being watched. A second later, and a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him against the brick wall, making him gasp and drop the plastic bag of books.

He was met with a woman; shorter than him, but not by much, with blondish hair and angry grey eyes. She seemed familiar, but Cas had no idea who she was. Her grip was inhumanly strong.

"Hello Castiel. It's been a while." Her voice was pleasant, but extremely cold, and Cas felt himself shiver.

"Who are you?"

"Of course. You wouldn't remember me. I worked in the Archives, after all."

Cas frowned. "You're an angel?"

What was a cold expression now turned furious. "No! No I am not! And I think we both know whose fault that is."

Cas swallowed, unwanted fear flooding through him. "Who are you," he asked again.

"Technically, I'm Vicky Lewiston and I'm an executive of a very productive retail chain. But really, my name is Ruth."

"Ruth, the Archivist?" He could not remember an angel he'd met by that name. Of course, all their voices sang together in the heads of the angels, and they all knew all their names, but not every angel had met every single one of their brethren.

"I was Bonded to Kerubiel, perhaps that is a name you remember?"

Cas felt all the blood drain from his face, his whole body. Kerubiel. Raphael's second in command, and the first he slaughtered when he returned to Heaven as the new God. He killed all the others quickly, but he had taken his time with Kerubiel, making an example.

"Ruth, I am very sorry."

She shoved him impossibly harder into the wall. "That isn't good enough!"

She moved both hands so she was gripping the front of his shirt and lifted him off his feet an inch or two. "I will not rest until I have taken _everything_ from you. Any life you've built, friends, family, I will _burn_ it down and make you watch. And then I will burn _you_."

"Hey!"

Cas barely hid back a groan. As grateful as he was that Dean had found him, he did not want this _monster_ to know he was close to Cas.

He heard her chuckle. "The Righteous Man. Of course Castiel would have found his way to your side."

"Who are you, lady?"

"I am Ruth. I just came by town to pay my brother a little visit."

Her eyes returned to Cas' face. "I know where you are now. The true siblings I have found will be watching you. Did you know our telepathic abilities are still fully intact? We have just enough Grace left. We know all your secrets."

Ruth leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "And I'll make sure _he's_ last."

She released her hold on Cas, who slipped down against the brick wall, and Dean was immediately by his side. Ruth walked away, not bothering to look back.

"Cas. You okay? Who was that?"

He shook as Dean helped him stand a bit steadier, and picked his bag off the concrete. He started leading the way towards the diner, and sat him in a chair while they waited on Sam. Dean set next to Cas and leaned in.

"Come on. Man, you gotta talk to me."

"Ruth. She is one of the angels who survived the fall. Part of her Grace is still intact. Super-strength, the ability to move things with her mind and read thoughts. I'm not sure what else she can do."

He looked Dean in the eyes. "She knows everything. The location of the bunker…"

"Hey, don't worry about that. That bunker would withstand a nuke strike."

Dean clearly could feel Cas' distress. "So she has it out for you, huh?"

"I…Angels could Bond with one another. It was like a marriage rite, to pledge two beings together for the rest of their existence. It was taken very seriously, and not many Bondings occurred."

"Okay. So?"

"So…Ruth was Bonded to an angel name Kerubiel. I…I _eviscerated_ him, Dean. And she seeks revenge for that and also for my destroying Heaven. She would kill us all."

Dean looked a little shaken, but just then, Sam came in and instantly knew something was wrong. Cas was relieved when Dean told Sam what had happened, because he knew he could not retell it again.


	4. Chapter 3: Bargaining

Chapter Three: Bargaining

They ordered their food to go, then hightailed it to the bunker. Dean did a perimeter check while Cas and Sam darted inside. Dean then checked the car, making sure nothing had been messed with, no bags or funky coins.

When he came in, they bolted the door shut, just like they always did and Dean had everyone turn out their pockets. Sam reached into his jacket pocket and groaned.

"I bumped into a guy coming out of the computer store. Just hit his shoulder."

He tossed a hex bag onto the table, and Dean pulled out a lighter. "What'd he look like, Sammy?"

"Tallish, with strawberry blonde hair, wearing jogging pants and a Kansas State shirt. Skinny looking, maybe late twenties."

After the hex bag was completely burned, they all sat around the table. Dean laid down some rules. If anyone wanted to go out, someone had to go with them, and they had to stay together. One person had to be in the bunker and keep it bolted at all times. There was a secret knock to get back into the bunker. They weren't going to take any chances.

Cas tried to pay attention to what Dean was saying, but he kept picturing Ruth's face in his mind, and how angry she was. An anger that was fully justified. He had killed her soul mate, striking him down even as he was begging on his knees that he would swear his loyalty, just to please let him live.

"Cas? You with me?"

He jerked his eyes up from the table, not realizing that he had been drifting in thought for so long.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm with you."

"Okay. We stick to this and watch each other's backs until we can get some answers. We know she has other fallen angels on her side. Sam, you said these guys can be killed? They're mortal now."

"Yeah. But it'll be hard, depending on what kinds of powers they still have, and what kind of angel they used to be."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

Cas finally spoke up, contributing to the conversation. "Every angel in Heaven had some sort of job. Ruth worked in the Archives, Virgil was a weapons master, Joshua a gardener. Every angel had some basic fighting skills, in case the whole Host was needed for battle. But only the soldiers, the ones who would be on the front lines, protecting the Earth and Heaven, were heavily trained. If Ruth has any of these angels on her side, it will be extremely difficult to defeat them, even though they are weakened by not having their Graces."

"Well, let's hope anyone who's with her isn't one of those guys." Dean tried to smile encouragingly, but it did little to give Cas much hope. It would take someone much more powerful than three humans to stop Ruth and any with her.

Cas had to think of something.

XxxX

The last Dean had seen of Cas, he had disappeared into his room and as far as he knew, hadn't come out since. It had been a rough day, for all of them, Cas especially. If he needed space, Dean would let him have space.

It was just getting dark, and Dean had retreated to his room. Sam was busy doing research on Nephilim, which they guessed was the closest thing to what these kinda-angels are. He'd been helping him, but Sam told him he was being distracting and to go away.

He'd thought about watching a movie, but it wouldn't be the same as watching one without Cas, and they hadn't gotten to Nemesis yet. So Dean went to his room and put a Zeppelin album on with the volume down enough to not bother Cas next door. He lay down on his bed and just listened, knowing the songs well enough to let his mind wander. It was only one song away from having to flip sides when there was a small tap on his door.

"Yeah?"

Cas popped his head in and closed the door back behind him. "Hey, Cas. What's up?"

He looked nervous and was doing that thing where he picked at his nails again. "I'm not intruding, am I?" His eyes darted towards the record player.

"Oh, no. Just turn it off."

Cas had to stare at it for a minute before he found the right switch. He walked across the room and stood next to the bed, at the side that Dean wasn't laying on. "May I?"

It took Dean a minute to figure out what he was asking, if he could lay down with him on the bed. "Oh. Uhm, sure."

Cas easily fit into his side, one arm going under Dean's shoulders and the other on his chest. Dean slipped an arm under his waist and around to his side and held Cas' free hand with his own. It wasn't unlike when they curled up watching a movie, but now they had more room, and this felt weirdly much more intimate.

"What's going on, Cas?"

He shuffled a little bit closer, which Dean hadn't thought was possible.

"I'm not sure what to do, Dean."

"About what?"

He felt Cas huff against his neck. "Ruth. And her agenda against me. It will be extremely difficult to stop her."

"We've dealt with worse. We'll figure something out. It may take a while, but we're safe for now."

"You would be safer if they no longer knew where I was."

Dean felt something icy cold run through him and he felt nauseous at the same time. He pulled his head back so he could see Cas' face.

"You wanna leave."

He frowned. "No. I don't. But it's the only option."

"Well it's a fucking stupid option."

Cas flinched at the anger in his voice. "Dean…"

"No. We face this stuff by sticking together. If we've all learned anything in the past years, we know that's the best thing. If you run off and try to hide, they'll find you. And if they don't, they still know where Sam and I are, they'll get us and use it against you."

Cas looked away; he clearly hadn't thought of that possibility.

Dean tried to force himself to calm down. "I know you're thinking things are pretty desperate right now, and they are. But don't go doing something stupid."

He settled his head down on Dean's shoulder. "I just want you and Sam to be safe. Should something happen to you on account of my mistakes, I don't know…"

Cas' voice broke and Dean kissed the top of his head. "It'll take a lot more than some snooty mangels to take me and Sammy out."

"Mangels?"

"Yeah. Part human, part angel. Mangels. It's what I've been calling them in my head."

He felt Cas smile a little bit. "It'll work out, babe. You'll see."

Dean started turning red. He hadn't called Cas 'babe' before and it had just slipped out. If Cas thought anything about it, he didn't say. Just snuggled into Dean some more.

"I find your optimism encouraging. And a little bit out of character."

Dean laughed. "Well, not long ago you would've been right. But I got so many things that make it better now."

He leaned down and kissed Cas on the top of his head again, burying his nose there for a minute, just breathing in his scent.

Just then, Sam knocked on the door as he was opening it. If he was surprised to see him and Cas all curled together on the bed, it wasn't showing. He actually looked a little smug, the bitch.

"Hey, if you guys aren't, um…_busy_, Charlie's asking for us on Skype. She says there's something really important going on." He popped out of the room, leaving the door open.

XxxX

Cas followed Dean into the library where Sam had his computer set up. Dean moved around to stand at Sam's shoulder and waved.

"Good evening, my Queen."

"The same to you, my devoted Handmaiden."

Cas shuffled over to where he could see the screen. There was a young lady with long red hair and a friendly smile.

"Cas, you haven't met Charlie, come here." Dean pulled Cas over so he was standing behind Sam's other shoulder. Charlie waved.

"Hey! It's good to finally meet you in person. Kind of."

He leaned over so he was closer to Dean. "How is she seeing us?"

Sam choked back a laugh. "See this little thing?" He pointed at a spot on the top of his computer. "It's a camera. We can link up over the Internet and talk to each other. Like cell phones, but you can see each other's faces."

"Oh."

"Charlie, what do you got for us? Sam said it was big."

There was some ruckus somewhere near her, and she looked around and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like huge. One big-ass boss battle."

Cas was having trouble understanding what she was saying, but he didn't want to interrupt.

"I'll start at the beginning. Okay, so I was in Phoenix for a Con, and I was at this motel. Well, I was packing up to leave, and I saw Kevin! You guys showed me a picture of him to keep an eye out, so I recognized him. And I was like, 'hey, what's up, I hang with the Winchesters', and it turns out him and his friend Garth had been tracking some serious demon activity. Off the charts."

"We didn't hear anything about it," Dean sounded put out.

"Well, see, Garth was about to call you guys, but I told them I didn't mind helping out. Besides, they needed some mad hacking skills to pull this thing of theirs off."

"What thing?"

"Kevin told me about this recipe for these kick-ass demon killing bombs, and they were gonna need a lot of them."

"Well where'd you get the stuff? Cas had to fly all over the world to get some of that shit."

He was starting to sound impatient now.

"E-bay, duh. It was expensive as crap but that's where my skills came in. So we made a whole bunch of these jars of the stuff, and then we raided the keep. And by keep, I kinda mean abandoned warehouse. Why is it always abandoned warehouses? I mean, they're crap. Hide in the Hilton next time…"

"Charlie."

"Okay, keep your panties on. There were demons, and we were smokin'em left and right and we were kicking ass and taking names. And we thought we'd done it, and were high-fiving it…And then the Boss came in. She said her name was Abaddon, and she was looking for the Winchester boys and this had been a set-up. I guess she thought you guys would still be watching over Kevin, I dunno."

Charlie was very expressive with her hand and arm movements.

"Anyway, Garth threw a demon bomb at her. No dice, guys, and I was about to freak out 'cause this bitch was scary as hell. She was hot as hell, too…But, uh, Kevin was like, 'keep throwing them', and we were chucking jars as fast as we could, and we were down to the last one, and she _finally_ died."

Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Dead? Are you sure?"

"She went out like all the others did. Apparently, she was a Knight of Hell, and the only thing that will kill one are those bombs, but you have to go atomic on them with it. That's what Kevin said. And since he's a prophet, I kinda trust his words."

"Where _is_ Kevin?"

"Yeah, I wanna talk with the little bastard." Dean was clearly frustrated.

"Uh, he's here but, um…"

Just then he popped up on the screen. "Hey! Guys, guys check us out! Come on, dude, do it with me, do it!"

Another man appeared. "Aw'right, aw'right. Charlie you, too. Counta' three. One, two…"

"We Garth'd the motherfucker!" They all cheered at once and then the two men stumbled away.

"What the hell?"

"Um…We were supposed to go out and hit some bars to celebrate and pick up chicks, but the boys got started ahead of me so…No chicks for me tonight."

Dean sighed and rubbed his head. "Okay. Well, then what happened?"

"Oh! We heard this banging noise from a closet, and we looked in and it was that dude, Crowley!"

The brothers looked at each other again.

"Yeah, I know, right? Apparently, Abaddon stole him from the hospital, and then carried him around with her, trying to get info."

"What kind of info?"

"Apparently, she wanted to be the head hell-bitch. But it requires some ritual and a spell, and Crowley had done it when he became King of Hell. But he wouldn't tell her. And she couldn't just kill him, or she wouldn't _really_ be in charge."

"Well, as soon as Kevin saw who it was, he threw the last jar at him but it didn't work. Whatever you guys did for that trial thing, made him part demon, part human."

She sat back in her chair. "He was really happy to see us. He was hugging Kevin…Oh, and guess what. He was totally lying about his mom being dead! He just sent her to Alaska under constant guard. She's on her way back now. And he gave Kevin the Leviathan tablet, no strings attached."

"Are you sure about that? He may be part human now, but he's probably still a sneaky son of a bitch."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. He even took us to see the new hell."

"The _what_?"

"Complete redesign. Crowley said he felt really bad for the people who have to go to hell who didn't do something really awful. So he fixed it. Hell is now a summer camp. It's an almost exact replica of that place in 'Dirty Dancing'."

Cas looked at Dean. "It's a movie, man, we'll watch it later."

Charlie leaned in. "You have a copy of 'Dirty Dancing'?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Swayze! Swayze _always _gets a pass!"

"Whatever. Anyway, it looks like that, and people swim in the lake and play golf. But it isn't perfect."

She leaned in closer, her voice very dramatic. "Every other day, it rains and everyone is forced to play BINGO in the auditorium."

"That's it? That's hell now?"

Charlie leaned back and shrugged. "For people who weren't too bad. But people who did really bad stuff, like murder or rape, they have a special hell. There's a panel of judges who sees each person and decides where they go. And if they were bad enough, they get their own hell. Say a murderer, he would spend every day being murdered. A child molester would spend every day as their child self, being molested. Get the idea?"

Sam frowned. "Who are the judges?"

Charlie looked uncomfortable. "I, uh, think Crowley just conjured them up and he's the one really making decisions, but they look like…Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson."

"No Steven Tyler?"

Charlie shrugged. "He preferred the original Idol lineup."

Sam still looked confused. "So…You die. And you either go to relive your greatest hits, or you spend eternity at a camp where you have to play BINGO every other day, or you live out your worst crimes?"

Charlie nodded. "Yep. That's it. Meaning of life. Or, death, I guess."

"So, Crowley just gave you the tablet, took you on a tour, and let you go?"

She nodded. "Yeah. The humanity you put in him made a huge difference. Oh, and he said to let you guys know if you ever need anything to just call. Well, he didn't say 'call' he said 'summon'."

"That's about all I got, guys."

"Um…Well, thanks Charlie. I guess we'll talk soon."

She held her hand up in what Cas now recognized as the Vulcan salute, and then disappeared from the screen. Dean and Cas sat at the table next to Sam. They were all quiet for a while.

"So, a prophet who only knows how to use a squirt gun, a LARPer, and a guy who manages not to trip over his feet on a good day took out one of the most powerful demons we've met. Sammy, I think we're off our game."

Sam shook his head. "And I was looking forward to it, after what happened with Henry."

"Cas, you got any thoughts on this?"

He had several thoughts, thoughts that had just occurred to him while listening to Charlie's tale. But he couldn't reveal them, they would be poorly received.

"Not really. That girl was very strange."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, but she's pretty cool."

XxXx

Three days later, and Dean was running down the side of the road in the middle of the night, cussing himself out in his head. He _knew_ something was wrong, he _knew_. But Cas had promised him that he wasn't going to do anything stupid, and he thought his acting weirder than usual was because of what that Ruth lady had said. Dean could only hope he'd find Cas out here somewhere, not hurt or…He couldn't finish that line of thought.

It had started about fifteen minutes earlier. Dean had been sound asleep, when Sam barged in, holding the side of his head. "Dean, wake up. Cas is gone."

He'd thought his heart had stopped for a minute, but he was getting out of the bed and sliding his boots on.

"What happened?"

"I got up and was going to the kitchen. Cas was at the door and I asked him what he was doing then he came at me and knocked me out. I was only down for about five minutes."

"Can you track his phone?"

"Already got it. Go left out of here, about a mile and a half and there will be a gravel road. He's somewhere down there."

Dean had been out the door before Sam finished talking.

He almost missed the gravel road in the dark, but he hurried down it. After some curves, Dean was relieved to see an old light post that flickered some…And Cas was there with someone. He ran a little faster.

Dean came skidding to a stop as he entered the clearing and Cas jumped when he saw him. He was looking really pissed off about something. The woman across from him was unfazed.

"Dean. What are you doing here?"

"Coming to get you, and then kill you, you son of a bitch. What's going on?"

"Well, well. Dean Winchester. It's been a while."

He took a closer look at the woman and their surroundings. The clearing was an area where four gravel roads met, and the woman was wearing a slinky black dress.

"Are you making a crossroads deal?"

"No," Cas snapped. "Because this _whore_ won't give me what I want!"

The woman laughed. "I told you, angel face. I can't do it. Demons can't bend time. But you knew that. And I can't just conjure an angel's Grace out of thin air. It is _impossible_ to do what you want."

"But…"

"You're trying to make a deal?" Dean was absolutely furious. "Are you that fucking stupid?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. If I remember my history, you made a deal and started the Apocalypse."

Dean glared at the demon. "This is none of your business, lady. Smoke out and go back home. We're leaving."

He grabbed Cas by the arm and started dragging him along back down the path he'd came through. Cas tried to get loose, but Dean clamped down.

"Dean…Let me go, maybe there's something else she can do…"

He stopped and shook him. "Do about what?"

"Ruth!"

Dean started walking again. "We are not dealing with demons. They're bad news, or didn't you learn that the last time you worked with them?"

There was silence all the way back to the bunker, and Dean didn't let go of his iron hold on Cas' arm for a second. He got to the door and knocked. One tap, three counts, three quick taps, two counts, two taps.

Sam pulled the door open and Dean shoved Cas in and he stumbled.

Sam looked pale and was holding an ice pack to the side of his head. "What happened?"

"This _idiot_ was trying to make a crossroads deal!"

Cas had regained his balance and suddenly looked just as angry as Dean.

"I was _trying_ to get my Grace back!"

"You said you let that go!"

Cas groaned and walked down the steps into the front room, followed by the brothers.

"Yeah, before someone much more powerful than me decided to try and kill us all."

"You agreed to stick it out, that we'd think of something." Dean was starting to feel his face heat up and he knew Cas was red, too.

"Well, we aren't thinking fast enough!"

"Cas, you sell your _soul_!"

"If I had a Grace, I wouldn't have a soul, not technically."

Dean grasped at his hair. "So you'd mojo back up, take out these guys then what? Restore Heaven?"

"If I could."

"So you were planning on leaving again."

Cas hit the table with the palm of his hand. "Why does everything circle back to this? You're a broken record, Dean!"

Dean took some deep breaths, but it wasn't helping much. "Look, I get that you thought you were trying to help, but…"

"Yeah, I get it, it was a stupid idea. I didn't really think it would work anyway. But it was worth a try."

Dean sighed and sat down. "No, it really wasn't. You could've got kidnapped out there. There's a reason we don't go out alone. Always breaking the rules like a fucking stupid child."

He realized what he said just after he said it. "Cas, I didn't…"

"Yes, you did." He started off towards his room, but stopped at the entrance to the hall, staring at the ground. "I apologize for striking you, Sam."

Then he was gone.

XxxX

Cas was absolutely not coming out of his room. Sam left him meals outside that disappeared, and he guessed he went to the bathroom, but he sure was sneaky about it. Sam had tried calling and texting him, to at least communicate in some way, but all he got was voicemail and 'please leave me alone Sam'.

It was like that for two days before Sam managed to catch him. He'd purposely taken a really long nap earlier, so he could stay up and see if Cas would appear. Sure enough, around one o'clock, he saw him slip out of his room in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he'd stolen from Dean. Sam rushed up to him before he could sneak back in his room again.

"Hey, Cas," He kept his voice low, so Dean wouldn't hear them.

"Hello." He looked shifty, and wouldn't meet Sam's eye.

"Look, I totally forgive you for the knocking me out thing. I get what you were trying to do. This whole family has always been about self-sacrificing for the others. I guess trying to sell your soul officially makes you an honorary Winchester."

Cas smiled very lightly. "How is Dean?"

"He's being an ass. I think he feels…"

Sam stopped when he noticed a huge mottled purple bruise on Cas' arm a few inches above his elbow. "Dude, what happened?"

He covered it self-consciously and dropped his eyes. "Nothing."

"Dean said he dragged you back, did he do that?"

"No."

Sam turned and barged into Dean's room. "Sam, don't…"

Dean sat up looking confused as the light came on in his room. "What the hell's goin' on, Sammy?"

Sam pointed at the bruise on Cas' arm. "_That's_ what's going on."

He didn't look like he understood for a minute and then he remembered.

"Oh…"

"Gonna take more than an 'oh', Dean. You two sort this out. Now."

XxXx

There was a really tense silence until Cas moved over and sat in the desk chair. "One of these days we'll have to have a fight and make up without Sam mediating."

"I don't wanna fight with you, Cas." It was almost a whisper.

"I don't either."

Dean swung his legs out of the bed and sat facing Cas. "We gotta be honest with each other. If you have some kind of plan you think might work, tell me, and we can work on it. Together."

"What would you have done had I came to you with this idea?"

"I'd have pointed out how stupid it was and saved me from almost having a heart attack when Sam said you had disappeared."

Cas nodded. "You think I'm stupid."

Dean resisted rolling his eyes. "No, I think you aren't thinking rationally right now about this situation. Which we _will_ take care of. Remember?"

"Yeah. I remember."

There was a brief silence. "Why didn't you tell me I was hurting you?"

Cas looked up at him and Dean could almost feel the sadness. "Because I thought you were angry enough to not care."

Dean came and kneeled in front of him. "I told you. A while back, that if I ever hurt you, I would do anything to make it up. If you'd said you were hurting, I would have eased off. I didn't realize I was holding on that hard, because yeah, I was mad. But no matter how mad I am, I'll never hurt you on purpose."

Cas' hands were in his lap, clasped together and Dean lifted them to kiss where his fingers met. "And I'm also sorry for calling you a child. I don't think of you that way, I promise."

He kissed his hands again.

"Now. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Cas looked startled. "Oh, no, Dean. You don't have to…"

Dean shut him up by leaning up and kissing him solidly on the mouth for a minute before backing away again. "Anything you want, Cas."

He looked shy all of a sudden. "Can we have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?"

Dean laughed and bent down so his head rested on Cas' knee. "Typical. Anything in the world and you chose pancakes."

"With the strawberry syrup?"

"Whatever syrup you want. Anything else?"

Cas glanced at his arm. "Is there some sort of ointment that will make this hurt less?"

Dean had purposely not been looking closely at the bruised area on his arm, but finally made himself do it. It was mostly purple with a little bit of yellowing at the edges, almost the exact size of his hand.

"I am so sorry, Cas."

He sighed and pushed out of the chair so he was kneeling on the floor with Dean, who was staring down at the floor now. He felt Cas cup both sides of his face and leaned forward to kiss him. Cas hadn't initiated anything like this before, it had always been Dean. And then there was tongue, and that was even more surprising. Cas was always so passive, and while Dean had snuck his tongue in Cas' mouth the first time he could, it hadn't exactly been reciprocated this much.

But suddenly, Cas pulled back with a hiss. Dean looked to see what was wrong and realized he'd touched his arms, and hit the bruise there.

"Shit, Cas, I…"

Cas huffed in annoyance. "Quit apologizing!"

Dean smiled. "Sorry."

Cas smacked him on his knee, and he went 'ow!' even though he had barely felt it, then he went to the bathroom to get the ointment.

When he got back, Cas was sitting on the edge of his bed, Indian style. Dean sat next to him and turned so he could see his arm better.

He rubbed it in very gently, as gently as he could, making small circles with his thumb. Cas still winced every so often, but it didn't take long before he was through.

"There. We'll keep putting it on until it quits hurting so much."

"Thank you, Dean."

There was a brief silence, one broken by Dean trying to hold back a yawn.

"Is there anything else I can do, Cas?"

He smiled and got off the bed. "Yeah, you can go back to sleep. You can't sleep in, I'll be expecting my pancakes."

Dean rolled his eyes and got back in the bed. The sheets smelled a little bit like Cas, and he really liked that. He leaned over and kissed Dean on his forehead.

"'Night, babe."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Cas shut the light off and closed the door, and Dean was almost instantly asleep.

XXxx

The next morning, Sam was more than pleased to see that his brother and Cas had made up. They were in the kitchen, Cas sitting on the counter and laughing at something Dean was joking around about.

Sam walked in the room and smelled what was cooking.

"Oh, man, pancakes!"

He just shrugged. "Cas wanted them."

Sam sighed. He understood Dean and Cas' relationship wasn't exactly a normal one, because, well, almost anything they did wasn't normal. So Sam had kind of hoped that they would skip the annoyingly cute couple phase that normal people usually went through. It looked like he was wrong. Maybe this wouldn't last long, it was just because they'd made up the night before.

The pancakes were awesome, and then he and Dean had to go into town on a food run, leaving Cas in the bunker.

They bickered through the store, like they always did, arguing about stuff like vegetables and 'what the fuck is a cumquat? It sounds dirty, Sam'.

When they finally got away from the fruits and vegetables, and Dean started throwing things in the cart like Doritos and Sam was sneaking granola bars in, he felt that the time was right to be having a talk with his brother, one that he felt needed to be had since last night. And any excuse to get Dean all flustered up was okay with him.

"So…You and Cas."

Dean scowled at the dried fruit and nut mix Sam had just tossed in. "What about me and Cas?"

"What's going on there, 'cause I can't always tell with you guys."

"Not much to tell, Sammy. We're still friends, but there's just more…you know, stuff."

Sam held back a laugh. This was his brother who had told him disgusting details of his sexcapades for years and now he was too shy about this. Priceless.

"And it's not your business, anyhow."

"So, it's like a friends with benefits thing?"

"There's no…I'm not talkin' about this with you. Me and Cas don't need to be labeled."

Dean was blushing more by the second, and put the coffee that was Cas' favorite in the cart. This was fun.

"But you guys are a thing now, right?"

He groaned and sank his head down into his hands. "Yeah, sure whatever, we're a _thing_, are you happy?"

Sam didn't bother him anymore as they went through the store, getting hamburger meat, bread, beer, sodas, milk, bacon, eggs, flour, and he snuck in some yogurt, _real_ cheese, and organic honey.

They were soon in the checkout lane.

"Dean, you know I really like Cas, right? He's a good friend and I like to think of him as a second brother."

"Good to know, Sammy."

"But I gotta say if you hurt him like that again, I'll chop your balls off."

Dean looked insulted. "That was a total accident! And shouldn't you be having this conversation with him, not me?"

Sam just raised his eyebrows at him, an expression Dean had once called his 'bitch, please' face.

"Unbelievable," Dean huffed under his breath as he started unloading the cart on to the sliding belt.

Sam left Dean alone again as they put all the groceries in the back seat of the Impala and started back to the bunker. They were stopped at the last red light in town.

"So, have you gotten to second base yet?"

Dean groaned and leaned into the steering wheel, accidently making the car honk, and scaring an old lady walking down the sidewalk. Sam couldn't stop laughing for a while after that.

"Do I ask inappropriate questions about your…"

"_Yes_," Sam cut him off, still chuckling some.

Dean just grumbled down the road, and retaliated by turning the radio up to eleven.

They finally got home, and Sam thought he was gonna be deaf for the next hour or two. They unloaded all the groceries and stacked them near the door, and Dean knocked.

They waited a minute, and Dean started to look worried. But then they could hear Cas.

"Uhm, Dean? I know you wrote it down for me, but I've misplaced the paper, and I don't remember the correct sequence of knocks."

Dean dropped his head back and sighed. "Cas, it's…it's us, I promise."

"You could be shifters."

He looked like he was considering banging his head on the bunker door. "Well, let us in and we'll do the silver test."

There was a long pause, then Cas opened the door quickly and chucked two spoons at their heads. Dean managed to catch his, but Sam was slower and it hit him on the shoulder. He leaned down to pick it up. It was heavy; pure silver.

"Cas. What the hell?" For a change, Dean didn't look mad, just kind of dumbfounded.

"Silver. Shifters can't touch it, right? I always thought it was ridiculous, you guys always cutting yourselves."

"So you threw spoons at us?"

Cas tilted his head. "Yeah," like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean huffed again, and started grabbing bags and taking them to the kitchen. "Help us with these, would you?"

Cas looked confused. "Have I done something wrong?"

Sam shook his head and grinned. "I gave him a little bit of trouble and he's just being…"

"I'm not being anything, Sammy is just a pile of douche-nozzles!" Dean yelled from the kitchen.

XxxX

The next few days were bright and sunny, and Cas really, really wanted to go out to the garden. He couldn't go out alone, though, so he had to convince Dean to go out with him. It wasn't terribly hard to do.

Cas had long since finished his 'memoir', as Sam called it, and had begun working on his own project. He had found a blank notebook in one of the rooms, and had been working on sketching things with a pencil. It was very enjoyable, but he wanted to draw something that was outside.

He chose to sit on the bench that Dean had made, while Dean himself had laid out a blanket in a patch of sunshine not far away, and he was resting there, wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Cas was concentrating on a flower, and he had thought Dean was asleep before he spoke.

"Cas?"

"Hmm?" He kept drawing.

"What happens to angels when they die?"

That shook him out of his concentration quite a bit. "Why are you asking?"

"Well…Humans go to Heaven or Hell, monsters go to Purgatory. What happens to angels?"

Cas set his book aside. "We were never born, and instead of a soul, we have…had our Grace. So, when an angel dies, its Grace simply flashes out of existence. Michael told us that our Graces were formed by God from stardust. So I suppose that's what happens. We return to stardust."

Dean seemed to think about that for a while. "What about animals?"

Cas had to smile. "Animals have souls. They go to Heaven, exclusively. As far as I know, no animal has gone to Hell."

"Then…Where do, uhm…Hellhounds come from?"

"They are demonic entities. Souls so tortured they surpass being demons and become animalistic instead."

Dean hummed. "So…Where do demons and hellhounds go when they die?"

"They disperse, like an angel does. Except they disperse into a sort of sulfur gas and fade into the atmosphere."

Dean was quiet. "Why do you ask these questions?"

"Dunno. Just curious, and I never thought to ask before." He turned his head so he was looking at Cas and smiled. "Feeling philosophical today."

"You know, you probably could have looked all that up in the archives inside."

Dean snorted. "That's Sammy's thing. Why go through all those dusty books when I can just ask Mr. Know-It-All."

Cas smiled. "I hardly know everything, Dean."

He grew quiet again, and Cas resumed his sketching, and they stayed out well into the afternoon.

XXxx

"I would like to summon Death."

Dean choked on his grilled chicken and Sam had to slap him on the back a few times.

"Are you crazy," he finally got out, his eyes still watering.

Cas shook his head. "No. I found the ritual here in the archives. You gave me the idea Dean, when we were talking about the afterlife a few days ago. It wouldn't bind him, just summon him. He's helped in the past, maybe he can help now."

Dean leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples. "Dude, do you remember the last time we dealed with Death?"

Cas frowned, matching Dean's angry expression with his own. "Yes. I do. I unchained him from you after _you_ called him _your bitch_."

Sam looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh. Cas carried on. "Then he arranged for an eclipse to open Purgatory, and you two and Bobby saved me."

"And he put my soul back together, Dean. He gave us his ring when we needed it and told us how to open the cage. This might be a good idea."

Dean looked between the two. "You're both serious? You want to bring Death _here_?"

Cas nodded. "It's just a summoning. He can refuse to come, if he wants."

He leaned back and sighed. "Yeah, okay, fine. He's probably not gonna be happy to see us, so if anyone gets fucking _reaped_ it's on you two."

Sam went on eating. "What're we gonna need, Cas?"

"Most of it I've seen in some of the storage rooms here. But there are a few things we should be able to get from a store in town."

Dean zoned out while the two of them talked back and forth about the ritual, and how it was supposed to go. He knew Death had been a huge help in the past, and he was really grateful for it, but it was…You know, _Death_. Dealing with him was like playing with fire. One wrong move and your ass is toast. He did not want Cas', Sam's, or his own ass to be toasted.

"Dean?"

He jerked his head up, realizing he'd just been staring at his plate for however long.

"Huh?"

"Me and Cas'll go into town tomorrow morning, and then we'll do the summoning when we get back."

"Uhm, yeah. Alright. That's…good."

For the rest of the afternoon, Dean felt off. He was restless, he guessed. Sam and Cas were hunting for stuff around the bunker, and he wanted to stay out of their way, so he hung out in his room a while 'til he got bored, then went to the TV room, but there wasn't anything he felt like watching, so he cleaned the kitchen up some. He really wished he hadn't imposed that 'two people at a time' rule, because he would _love_ to get in his Baby and just drive around for a while.

He eventually went back to his room and texted Charlie and then Kevin to see how things were going. Charlie was on her way for a massive yearly Moondoor meet-up, where she would be competing with the other Queens in 'glorious battle' to win the title of Her Imperial Majesty for a year. Kevin was taking a break from hunting with Garth to hang out with his mom. Dean told them both to 'have fun', and then he didn't know what else to do.

Dean checked the time and realized it was past dark, and Cas and Sam were probably done with their Easter egg hunt. He peaked his head out of his room and saw that light was coming out from under Cas' door. He knocked.

"Come in."

Cas was sitting in an arm chair that Dean had helped him move into his room, so he would have a comfortable reading spot, and that's what he was doing, reading one of his slightly worn books.

"Hello Dean. I was wondering if I was going to see you."

Dean sighed and sat on the side of Cas' bed. "Yeah, I know I've been hiding out."

"There's no need to be nervous…"

"No need? Cas, he could kill all of us with a blink if he wanted to. He is the _only_ thing we have ever seen that there is no defense from."

He set his book aside. "Dean, I've thought of all that. But it's the only way of getting the information we need. He would be able to give us their number, their locations…Sam thinks it's a good plan."

Dean just crossed his arms and said nothing.

"Dean? Tell me what you're thinking."

He wanted to be stubborn and just go back and brood in his own room, but Cas had caught his eyes, and Dean could see he was a little concerned. Damn bastard had him wrapped around his finger…

"Fine. I'm thinking that this time tomorrow we could all be rotting corpses here in this stupid bunker, and I'm not down with that." He huffed, but Cas just tilted his head at him and squinted slightly.

"Is this another version of your 'last night on Earth' speech?"

Dean felt his jaw drop, and he knew he was just sitting there, looking more stupider by the second. "What? No! That's…Why would you think that!"

Cas smiled at him. It wasn't his usual smile either, this one had a hint of teasing to it. "If I remember correctly, one night when you thought I would be dead the next day, you promised me you weren't going to let me die a virgin."

He was feeling extremely uncomfortable now, and he knew he was fucking _blushing_, and this was all kinds of messed up. It was getting really hot in here, Cas would keep it hot, though. Did he need water, he thought he needed water.

He suddenly heard Cas laugh. "God, Dean, the look on your face!"

Dean relaxed a little, breathing a sigh of relief. "Yeah, ha ha, very funny."

"Don't worry, Dean, I'm not really ready for something that intense with you yet, and from that expression on your face just now, I'd say you aren't either."

"Uhm. No, not really. This stuff, you know, with a guy. It's kinda new. Wanna ease ourselves into it."

Dean heard the words come out of his mouth and groaned at the innuendo and picked up a pillow from the bed and tried to suffocate himself with it. Cas yanked it out of his hands and sat next to him on the bed. He reached over and took Dean's hand.

"Would you like to sleep in here tonight? Or we could sleep in your room."

"What?"

Cas smiled and kissed him, something that was happening more and more frequently, not that Dean was complaining. "I would like to sleep in the same bed with you."

He moved so he was straddling Dean's lap, and he put his hands on Dean's shoulders. Dean automatically put his arms around Cas' waist to keep him in place, and it was Dean initiating kisses this time, but Cas pulled back after a few minutes, face and lips redder than usual.

"If this is going to be our last night, I want to spend it sleeping in your arms."

That kind of sent Dean on a loop. What was he supposed to say to that? Things between him and Cas, even as friends, had always been intense. And the amount of sheer _adoration_ Cas showed him, still, after everything they had gone through…It was almost too much.

It really hit him, then. How totally much in love Dean was with Cas. And he didn't have a problem with that.

"Dean?"

He realized he'd been quiet for too long and Cas was starting to look nervous.

"I really want that too, babe."

They ended up in Dean's room, since his bed was a little bigger. They took their turns in the bathroom, changing into sleep clothes and the nightly routine, then they both got under the covers.

It took some shuffling around and elbows and knees in weird places, but they finally got wrapped around one another, both comfortably. Dean was rubbing circles above Cas' hip, just under his shirt and they were both almost asleep.

"Cas?"

"Hmm."

"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow."

Cas curled a little bit closer in. "I promise. Can you make one of those incredible cheeseburgers? I know he'd like to have one."

Dean had to chuckle. He was gonna be making Death lunch. It was kinda funny.

"'Night, babe."

"Goodnight, mon ange."

From the way Cas pronounced it, it sounded French, but they were both asleep before Dean could ask what it meant.

xxXX

The next morning, Sam woke up, and since he was usually the first up, he went on ahead and got his shower and the rest of his morning routine going. He got dressed and went into the library, planning on doing something on his computer before Dean or Cas got up. Then he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Curious, he went to look.

Cas was sitting on the counter again, drinking coffee, and Dean was cooking. He looked around when he heard Sam.

"Mornin' Sammy."

He sat down at the table. "You guys are up early."

"Yeah, big day." Dean turned back to the stove. "Cas, you wanna get the plates out?"

Sam could hear the tenseness in his brother's voice. He knew Dean wasn't all too thrilled about Death being called for a visit, but it really was the best option they could think of.

He watched Cas trying to be helpful in the kitchen, and the looks they were sharing. Sam guessed something had happened over the night. He didn't really want to think about it.

After breakfast, he and Cas got ready to leave. They checked the room they had picked for the summoning, and Cas checked over the manuscript again to make sure they had everything, and that what they didn't have was on the list. He put the list in a pocket inside his jacket, and they were ready.

Dean was pacing around in the front room, waiting on them.

"Okay, Dean, we're going now."

Dean nodded and looked at the two of them. "Just be careful, alright?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's a trip to town, man. We aren't going into a vamp nest or something."

He attempted a smile, but it looked off. "Well, you know how much I worry when you drive my car around."

Sam shook his head, and went up the staircase. Cas stayed with Dean for another moment, and they talked quietly enough that Sam couldn't tell what they were saying. After a bit, Cas and Dean came up the steps too, and Dean still looked nervous.

"Okay, guys. Good luck with the shopping."

Sam and Cas went out the door, and Dean closed it behind him, and the lock clanked, echoing weirdly.

The sky was dark, almost blackish grey, and the wind was blowing harder than normal. For a moment, for whatever reason, Sam suddenly felt his brother's nervousness. If Cas was affected, it didn't show.

"It may rain today."

XxxX

It was time.

Everything was ready, Cas had the incantation in front of him, Dean had made two of his delicious cheeseburgers and a chocolate milkshake with the promise that if Death didn't kill them he'd make more later, and all the spell ingredients were ready.

Cas stood at the table, trying not to be scared. This was important, and it needed to be done correctly. He had to be confident right now, like Dean or Sam would be.

He started reading off the paper, adding certain things with words as he went along. He was oddly proud that his voice didn't falter. There was a little bang of smoke, and then he was supposed to cut his hand over the silver bowl, and while he did that, his voice did shake a little. It had never hurt before when he'd done spells like this. The last ingredients were in, and Cas spoke the last words.

Nothing was happening.

They waited in silence for a minute.

"Did you say the words right?"

He turned and glared at Dean. They waited for a while, and Sam helped him clean and wrap some gauze around his hand. Dean was getting impatient.

"Hey Death, your food's gettin' cold!"

Then the voice came from the back corner of the room. "I appreciate the sentiment, Castiel. You altered the wording to be extremely polite."

Death walked over, and sat in the arm chair with the food next to it. "Ah. The Men of Letters Headquarters. I've not been here in a while."

Everyone was tense now, even though Death seemed very laid back. But then, he was always like that. He took the plate of cheeseburgers.

"This is wonderful, Dean. If I didn't know better, I'd think you're trying to butter me up for something."

Cas cleared his throat. "We would like to ask some questions."

"You may ask. I make no promise to answer."

He realized his hands were shaking and he held them tighter. He hadn't told Dean or Sam about this part. "Is there a way for me to get my Grace back?"

Death just looked at him and shook his head. "It's gone, Castiel. You know that. The road to acceptance can be long."

Cas nodded. "Then may I borrow your ring?" He felt Sam and Dean stiffen behind him.

"What for?"

"I…I would like to free Michael from the Cage."

"Cas," Dean hissed. "Are you out of your Goddamn mind?"

Death sipped on the milkshake. "Castiel, once again you will try to attempt to do something, that the consequences of which would be…undesirable. Should you open the Cage, and let Michael out he will also free his brother, and the Apocalypse that you three sacrificed so much to prevent would happen. Besides, the last time Michael saw you, you burnt him. He may not be happy to see you again."

"But he can restore the remaining angels to Heaven."

"True. But he wouldn't until the fight with Lucifer is finished. The time spent in Hell would have warped his Grace into something savage. He and his brother have more in common now than they ever did before."

Death sighed and set the cup aside. "And don't bother to ask me where God is because I don't know. If I did know, I wouldn't tell you anyway."

He stood up and walked around the room, everyone taking steps away from him. "These questions are not the ones you intended to ask me. You want to know about the fallen angels who are looking for you."

Cas nodded. "What can you tell us about them?"

Death raised his eyebrows. "Many things."

Dean huffed, clearly in annoyance. "You wanna be more specific?"

He just paced some more. "Every angel that fell lost some amount of their Grace. Most of them lost all of it, and their vessels died when they crashed. It was a good night for my reapers."

He turned back to look at them. "The ones who survived have little to no memory of being an angel. They are as you are. Completely human. But others maintained some degree of their Grace. Most of these are like the ones who became human, they have no memory of who they were, yet they can do extraordinary things."

Death sat back down in his chair. "But a small number, seventy-five exactly, remember. A varying degree of power and abilities are still in them, yet they are still no longer angels. They _can_ die. They can also still communicate with each other telepathically, which gives them a great advantage. Their leader is Ruth, who I believe you have already met."

Cas could feel Dean come up behind him. "Where are they?"

"They are in many places. A good number occupy near here, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Which will be soon. But their headquarters is the Smokestone Meat Factory. You may recall it. It's an abandoned slaughterhouse on the outskirts of Lawrence."

Cas could almost feel Dean roll his eyes. "Why is it always Lawrence?"

Death grinned. "Oh, it's not just Castiel they want to punish, they want to punish you and your brother as well."

"What the hell did we do?"

He shrugged. "You two are very close to Castiel. They assume that you must have also been involved in their falling. They seek vengeance for what was done to their family and their home."

Death looked at Dean and Sam very seriously. "Not that you would know what that's like."

He stood up and adjusted his suit. "If that is all?"

Cas stepped forward. "One more question."

Death leaned on his cane and waited expectantly.

"Where is the Colt pistol?"

"Good question, Castiel. No one has been looking for that thing in years, you'd think they'd forgotten about it."

He glanced at the brothers. "Carthage. Where Lucifer raised and chained me. It's buried in a box under the coffin of one Mr. Peter Monroe."

There was no fan fair, a second later and Death had disappeared.

XxXx

The rest of the afternoon passed in a tense silence. Not long after Death left, the sky had opened and there was a massive thunderstorm and they could hear the wind howling, even in the bunker.

Dean had made good on his promise and they had cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes for dinner, but no one said much. Death's words seemed to be echoing through all of their minds, and Dean was focused most particularly on what he had said about the mangels attacking soon. How soon was soon? He was worried enough about that to push out any anger he had had at Cas and his stupid 'let's free the insane Archangels' plan.

He kinda understood, and to be honest, he was kind of expecting something like that. He and Sam had clearly been a bad influence on him over the years, because Cas was proving, time and time again, that he would do just about anything to get what he thought needed to be done.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways in the bunker, since no one really wanted to be talking right now. Sam went into the TV room and put in some incredibly boring sounding documentary he'd picked up about the environment. Dean went back to his room and put a Beatles record on. He didn't listen to them often, because he knew these were his mom's favorite songs, but he liked to put them on when he was down. The last he had seen of Cas, he'd been sitting in the library, but he wasn't looking at anything.

At some point, even though it was pretty early when he laid down to enjoy his music, Dean must have drifted off to sleep, because he suddenly jolted when there was a knock on his door. He got up, stiff because he'd been sitting on the edge of the bed and just fallen back. Not the most comfortable position. He flipped the record off. "Yeah, come in."

It was Cas, and Dean immediately knew something was off with him. He swayed slightly where he stood, he looked like he was having a hard time focusing his eyes on Dean, and he seemed very serious about something.

He just stood there awhile, not saying anything.

"Uh, Cas? You alright, man?"

He frowned. "I have one more idea."

Cas said it and held up one finger, and his words were a little slurred together.

Dean stared at him. "Are you drunk?"

He shook his head. "No."

Dean walked closer to him, and didn't have to get too close to smell the whiskey on his breath. He was willing to bet that the bottle they kept in the pantry was now empty.

"Uh, yeah, I think you are, Cas."

He reached out and grabbed Dean by his elbows. "I have one more idea."

Dean sighed. "Okay, what's the idea?"

Cas shook his finger in Dean's face. "Just one. Just the one, Dean, I promise then I give up. I'll give up and admit it to myself that I'm stuck in this tiny flesh cage for the next…whenever."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Cas."

He nodded, still looking at Dean very seriously. "You need to sit on your bed and take off your shirt."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why?"

Cas leaned in really close and whispered, like it was a big secret. "It's part of the plan."

Dean huffed and sat back down on the side of his bed, and stripped off the long sleeved shirt he'd been wearing. "Fine. Now what?"

Cas made some weird, shooing motion with his hands. "Lie down."

"Huh?"

He made the shooing motion again, and Dean grumbled and turned so he was at least on his pillows this time. "Whatever plan you've got in mind, Cas, I hope it's a good one."

Dean nearly jolted out of the bed again when Cas, with remarkable coordination considering how drunk he was, got on top of him, straddling his thighs and leaning over him, his hands near Dean's shoulders. Cas bent his head down closer to Dean's and he could feel him nosing at his hair. "You smell really pretty."

Dean was kinda sure part of his brain wasn't working right, but he managed to get out, "Thanks. Uh, you too."

Cas sat back up, and he was suddenly serious again. "When I grabbed you from Hell, I left a mark on you."

Dean lifted up his arm and turned it so he could look at it. The handprint that was almost faded away. He doubted it would ever completely fade, but he really didn't mind. Although, it had been tough to explain to some of his hook-ups how exactly a hand was scarred onto his arm.

"Yeah, you sure did."

"Dean, that's where I was holding you when I recreated your body. My Grace put all the pieces where they were supposed to go, but, see, I had to _touch_ you…physically. To reanimate you."

Cas wasn't making too much sense. "Okay, well how did you leave a handprint if you were some kind of…light thing?"

He rolled his eyes as if explaining things to a child. "My vessel was already chosen, I could take on a kinda form, but if you were to see me…"

"My eyes would burn out. So you touched my arm with a really, _really_ bright version of Jimmy?"

"Basically. Yeah."

"Okay. So how does that lead into this?" Dean waved at them both in the bed.

"I think. If I touch that handprint, I may be able to draw Grace from it."

Dean thought this was a really weird idea. "Uh, well, okay then. Go on ahead and try it."

Cas looked at him very seriously, then leaned over again so he could touch him on the shoulder, exactly where the print was. Dean didn't feel anything, other than Cas had cold hands, but that was nothing new. He pressed in harder and was biting his bottom lip, eyes closed and face scrunched up like he was really focusing.

Nothing was happening. "Uhm, Cas…"

"Shut up, Dean this is gonna work, just give me a minute."

"Look, it's been years. I'm pretty sure anything left behind would have, you know, leaked back over to you. I'm sorry, but…"

Cas pulled back suddenly, and sat so he was just over Dean's thighs again. He started shaking, and it took Dean a minute to realize he was crying, and suddenly the crying turned into sobbing. "Oh, babe…"

Dean sat up and pulled Cas to him. He kinda wished he had his shirt on, because now his chest was all wet and he was getting cold, and he hoped that Cas wasn't gonna get snot all over him. But it was okay if he did. Dean just wanted to hold Cas, and hope that helped him feel better.

Yeah, he was definitely whipped.

Eventually, the crying calmed down into weak sniffles, and then stopped entirely. Cas made a move to pull back, and Dean loosened his arms so that he could.

Cas frowned and rubbed his hands over Dean's chest. "Sorry."

Dean had to wait a minute for his head to clear, because Cas moving his hands like that was really distracting him. "Uh, no babe, it's okay. Don't be sorry."

It was almost like Cas had read his mind, because a second later, he was kissing Dean. And it wasn't how they normally did this, because it was sloppy, and Cas was way more into it than he had been before. Cas was a really bipolar drunk. Overly serious, then sad, then horny.

Before Dean was exactly registering what was happening, Cas had pushed them so they were back in their original positions, Dean lying down and Cas straddled over top of him. Dean managed to get his head turned away, but Cas just managed to latch on to his neck like a leech.

"Uh, Cas, you sure you wanna be doing this?"

Dean could feel him hum against his throat, and then he moved so he was closer, and ground his hips against Dean's.

He wasn't gonna lie. That felt fucking awesome, and he was man enough to admit that he had made an obscene groan at that. Cas was kissing and sucking down to Dean's chest now, and he realized he had pushed his hands up Cas' shirts, making them ride up to his ribs, and was running his hands up and down his back, and when had that happened?

But Cas was drunk and Dean wasn't, and as much as he wanted this to be going on, he knew that this wasn't the way _this_ was supposed to be happening. Dean moved his hands to Cas' shoulders.

"Cas, stop it."

There was a very uncharacteristic growl and Cas grabbed his hands and pinned them down to the bed near Dean's head.

"Seriously, man, quit."

Cas wasn't stopping. Dean sighed. He didn't want to do this. But hopefully he'd forgive him in the morning when he was hungover and not off his ass drunk.

It was easy to get his feet around Cas' knees and flip them both off the bed, although that had ground their hips together again and Dean had a second of regret for doing this. Cas was surprised enough landing on the floor to completely let go of Dean and he jumped up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. Cas was just sitting on the floor looking confused. Dean helped him stand up.

There were tears in his eyes. Looked like drunk horny Cas had turned back into drunk sad Cas.

"Dean?"

"Hey, babe. Look, I'm sorry. But I think you're gonna thank me when you're thinking straight again."

The tears started falling. "You don't want me?"

Dean sighed and pulled him into a hug again. "Not when you're drunk out of your mind, I don't. I'm not gonna take advantage of you, okay? That's not cool."

Cas sniffled again, but didn't say anything. Dean pulled away and took his hand. "Come on, I'll help you get into bed."

He led Cas to his own room and got his shoes off for him and pulled the covers up, then put a trash can next to his bed. "You're gonna feel like shit in the morning, babe. Sorry in advance."

Cas smiled sleepily and he snuggled his face into his pillow. Weird, now drunk sad Cas had turned into drunk sleepy Cas. "Thank you, mon ange."

Dean crouched down. "What does that mean?"

Cas shook his head. "Not your dictionary. Look it up."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Cas."

XxxX

When Sam got up the next morning, and he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, he saw Cas sitting with his elbows on the table and his forehead in his hands. He was worried at first, and was about to ask if he was okay, but then Sam saw the empty bottle on the kitchen counter and grinned.

"'Morning, Cas." He spoke a little louder than he usually would.

Cas moaned and slumped over the table some more.

Sam had to hold back a laugh. "How's your first human hangover going?"

He just shook his head. Sam went into the kitchen and started the coffee, then went to work on cooking the greasiest breakfast he could manage. He brought Cas a cup of the coffee and a large glass of water.

"Here, man, this'll help some. Gotta stay hydrated. Have you already been sick?" Sam lowered his tone, feeling some sympathy for his friend.

Cas' voice was muffled a little. "Yes. It was disgusting. And I hurt."

"I'll grab you some Tylenol. Hey, Dean, watch the food will you?"

Dean had just come out of the hall where the bedrooms were and nodded. For some reason, Cas slumped further down and groaned.

Sam shrugged and went to the bathroom where they kept most of the medicine they had and shook out a couple of pills. When he went back into the kitchen, Dean was cooking with an amused look on his face, and Cas was finally sitting up, blinking around groggily and looking mortified. "Here you go, man."

"Thank you, Sam."

Sam joined Dean in the kitchen, getting out plates and stuff. "So, what happened?"

"Whatcha talking about, Sammy?"

"Why'd Cas drink about a quarter of a bottle of whiskey?"

Dean shrugged. "I never did ask the why, but I figured it had something to do with what Death said about the mangels coming soon. And he's totally given up. On getting his Grace back again. Probably that."

"So you guys talked last night?"

Dean glanced over at him. "Me and Cas talk a lot."

That was vague. "Well, yeah, but…"

"Alright, food's all done."

Sam huffed. There was something Dean wasn't telling him, and he was gonna find out what it was.

Cas had taken the pills and was on his second coffee and third glass of water when Sam set the plate full of greasy fried eggs, bacon, extremely buttered toast, and fried hashbrowns. He turned a little pale.

"Sam, are you certain this is a good idea?"

Sam and Dean sat down with their own plates. "It's worked for me. Worth a try, I guess."

Cas nodded and started picking at his food. Sam noticed he was refusing to look at Dean, and Dean seemed to not notice.

"Okay, what's up with you guys?"

Dean shrugged again. "Nothing, Sammy, why?"

"Cas won't look at you."

Cas turned red, but was insistent on concentrating eating.

"Well, he's really something else when he's drunk. Maybe he remembers doing something embarrassing." Dean chuckled, and went right on eating.

Cas wasn't saying anything. "So…You two are okay? I don't have to threaten anyone to make you guys talk to each other?"

"Nope. Me and Cas are just fine. Right, babe?"

Sam felt weird. That was the first time Dean had called Cas that in front of him, and while Sam had seen his brother doing a lot worse, this felt different.

Cas finally made himself look up and look at Dean. He smiled slightly, and looked a little bit relieved. "Yeah. Fine."

He knew he was intruding into something, so he decided to let it go. He wasn't going into couple's therapy if he could help it.

"Okay. Cool."

Later, after the coffee, breakfast, and pain pills kicked in, Cas seemed to be feeling better. The first hangover always seemed to be the worst, and it looked like Cas had really over done it the night before.

He and Dean had settled in to watch a movie, and Sam decided to sit in with them, mostly because he knew Dean hadn't seen 'Batman Begins' often enough to quote along with the dialogue.

Much.

Sam noticed that Dean and Cas weren't sitting as close as they normally did when they watched movies together. At first, he just thought it was because he was there, but soon there was a tactile tension in the room, and Sam got the feeling like he was intruding on something again. They weren't fighting though, it was just like some kind of awkwardness coming from both of them.

He shook his head, and concentrated on the movie. 'None of your business', he told himself. After the movie was over, Sam made an excuse that he had to pack for the trip they were taking to Missouri the next day, to get the Colt. He'd already packed, but he had no problem hiding out in his room for a while.

xxXX

Cas wanted very much to avoid Dean. He had told him before breakfast that he wanted to talk to him at some point before they left the next day. Cas was not looking forward to that conversation. Even though Dean was obviously _not_ mad at him, and acted very normal towards him, Cas was still nervous.

He had mortified himself the night before and was extremely ashamed. Cas wanted to hide and stay hidden for the rest of his life. He had heard that when people get drunk, they forgot whatever had happened while they were inebriated, or at least some of it. He seemed to be an exception.

Cas could remember everything that happened the night before, in horribly vivid imagery. He'd felt really down, and realized this would be a point when someone should get drunk. So he found the bottle of whiskey and drank it. He honestly didn't expect it to affect him as much as it did. And then he had an epiphany, about the handprint he left on Dean.

So he found him, and proceeded to embarrass himself. Dean had been telling him to stop and he hadn't listened. He knew that was a very bad thing to do, something that could be unforgivable. But Dean seemed once again to be determined to ignore that. He had helped him, made sure he was okay. When Cas had woken around six thirty that morning, the trash can next to his bed proved invaluable.

Cas had a room he was hiding in at the moment. He seemed to have a gift for finding hiding spaces. It was on a different level of the bunker, not very far from the shooting range. It was a largish room, obviously used by the Men of Letters as some sort of storage room. There was an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus, empty, he had checked for a mummy. There were also Ming vases, a few missing pieces of art works, a model of Da Vinci's flying machine, and many other things he had yet to uncover. For now, he was sketching the sarcophagus. Something to keep his mind calm and occupied.

He jumped when the door opened and Dean came in. He was shocked enough to blurt out, "How'd you find me?"

Dean just smiled and shut the door behind him. "Honestly? I've just been wandering around and opening all the doors."

He came over and sat on the ground next to Cas. "Hey, that looks cool. You checked for a mummy right?"

Cas nodded. "It is empty."

"Damn. It'd be awesome to have a mummy. We could put it in Sammy's room one night and scare the crap out of him."

Cas sighed and put his sketchbook aside. "You said we needed to talk. And I agree."

Dean reached over and took his hand, interlocking their fingers. "Yeah. I kinda need to tell you something."

"Okay." He could tell Dean felt uncomfortable with whatever he was going to say.

"Remember when, a few years back, Zachariah sent me to a weird possible future? And all I told you about it was that the Croatoan Virus had spread and Sam had said yes to Lucifer?"

Cas nodded. "Well, there was some other stuff that went on, too. And I didn't want to mention it, because there was no way that future could be possible, and it all freaked me out."

Dean squeezed his hand tighter. "You were there. You told me all the angels had left, and you had become human. You were…It was kinda bad. Constantly drinking, taking pills and drugs and having…orgies."

Cas shook his head. "That sounds very uncharacteristic of me."

He smiled, but it was a little forced. "Yeah, I know. Just…Last night made me think about it. Don't think…I mean, everyone should get drunk every once in a while. You remember how I used to be. Constantly drinking, burying everything under alcohol. I know things are rough, but I don't want…"

Cas stopped him, realizing what was going on. "You're concerned I will make a habit of what happened last night. That I may become that person you met in the false future."

"I'm not proud of it, Cas. It's not any of my business what you do or don't do. It's not like we're, you know…stuff."

Cas was genuinely confused now. "Dean, I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"I, well…What do you think? What am I to you?"

Cas didn't quite understand the question, but tried to answer. "You are my friend who I have significant amorous feelings for. I think the normal term is 'boyfriend'. Yes, that is what I think of you as. My boyfriend. So it is your business, and I appreciate your concern. However, judging by how I felt this morning, I will never drink that much at once ever again."

He glanced over and Dean had a rare, full smile on his face. "Uhm. Good. That's good. And I think of you the same way. What you said…Me, too. Boyfriend."

Cas knew Dean was uncomfortable talking about things like this. So he changed the subject slightly. "I apologize for my actions last night."

"Oh, hey, don't worry. I'm sorry I had to flip you on the floor. I just thought it would be better if the first time we do any of…that, we should both be mostly sober. You know?"

Cas leaned closer and kissed Dean on his temple. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

"Cas, I wanted to ask you something else. Why'd you ask Death where the Colt was?"

He smiled. "The gun that can kill almost anything. It would be good to have, wouldn't it? And it would be safe here, so no one else could use it for less than noble purposes."

"Sam figured Lucifer destroyed it."

"Apparently not. I imagine he thought you would believe he destroyed it, and then hid it so you wouldn't look for it. It would remain lost for an incredibly long time."

"Well, I'm glad you thought of it."

There was a silence, but it was a comfortable one. They simply sat there, holding each other's hands.

Then Dean shifted. "Uhm. Cas, you know that thing we did night before last? Us sleeping in my room?"

Cas nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"

"Can we do that again?"

He smiled. "Yes, Dean. I would like that very much."

XxxX

A few days later found the three of them sitting in a booth in a diner somewhere just over the Kansas state border. It had taken longer than they had thought to find the grave, because there were a lot of graveyards, and then, when they found a Peter Monroe, they also found out that there were about four of them, a family name passed down. And Death hadn't mentioned _which_ Peter Monroe they needed to dig up. They started at the first and worked their way down. It ended up being under Peter Monroe III.

Dean had put the Colt in the trunk, in a box well hidden under a pile of ammunition and then covered with a blanket.

They were all a little achy, irritable, and ready to get home. When they'd finished their food, they went up to pay, but Cas said he needed to go to the bathroom, so Dean waved him off. He didn't bother telling Sam to go watch after him.

They paid then went outside to wait by the Impala.

Cas was taking a while, and Dean was starting to get a bad feeling. Just when he was about to go in and check, there was a voice on the other side of the car.

"Hello, Dean…Sam."

They both jumped and turned around. Dean glared, and since he knew Sam wouldn't recognize her, he muttered, "Ruth".

She walked around the car, Dean and Sam both slowly reaching behind to pull their guns out. "Not very polite, are we?"

"Where's Cas?" Sam barked.

She tutted in a really annoying way. "Now, you know I'm not going to tell you that. You'll have to come find him. But I would hurry if I were you. See, I've had a long time to think about what I would do if I ever got my hands on that monster. And I don't think he's going to enjoy it very much."

Dean was the first to shoot, quickly followed by Sam. Ruth put her hand up, and the bullets stopped inches from her, then they dropped.

She grinned at them. "You can't stop me. Castiel won't hold out forever, so I would leave now."

Ruth walked away the way she came, then went around the corner. Dean flung the door of the car open and jumped in, almost pulling out of the parking lot before Sam could completely get in his seat.

For a few minutes, all Dean could hear was static. _How_ could he have let Cas go on his own? One minute of letting their guard down was all it took, and they got him. He had to get to Lawrence as fast as he could.

Eventually, the white noise faded, and Dean could hear Sam yelling at him, telling him something. He shook his head and was able to concentrate some.

"Dean! Come on, man, pull over. Pull over now! This is what she wanted, we're going into a trap! We're gonna die before we even get to him, now pull over!"

Slowly, the logic settled in, and Dean found a gravel pull over spot.

"Thank you. We need to get back to the bunker, Dean."

"Why?" His voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

"We are vulnerable out here. The bunker is safe. We can plan from there, get some back up, call in some favors. We need to have an advantage."

Dean nodded and started the car back up. "Dean, you sure you're up for driving?"

He'd already pulled out onto the road, driving back the way they came. "Yeah. I'm fine, Sammy."

He'd never told more of a lie.


	5. Chapter 4: Depression

Chapter Four: Depression

Three days later, and almost everything was ready.

Sam was pacing up and down part of the small dirt trail that Kevin had found when he scouted through here. It was at a perfect place so they could see right down through an overgrowth of trees and brambles into the area around the old slaughterhouse. He really, really didn't like that they'd chosen a slaughterhouse for their HQ.

Charlie, Kevin, and Garth were all also in a tense silence. This was going to be one hell of a rescue mission. And everyone had a right to be nervous. They could see about twenty people milling around the perimeter, expecting Sam and Dean to come busting in, doing something crazy. Well, it was crazy. And there were parts of this he didn't entirely agree with, but Dean had been insistent.

Sam had really been worried about Dean the last few days. He was upset too, Cas was his friend and had saved his life a lot of times. He'd do just about anything for the guy. But Dean was doing bad. Sam knew he didn't sleep, he'd hardly eaten anything, and one night Sam had almost knocked on his door to check on him, and he could hear his brother crying. Sam had wanted so badly to go in and tell Dean that it was going to be okay, they'd get Cas back safe and sound, but he knew Dean wouldn't appreciate that.

He heard footsteps coming through the woods to the left, and everyone drew a weapon, just in case.

But it was Dean, back as scheduled, with the last member of the raiding party. He was all smiles, like Sam remembered him, and he walked right over to Sam with his hand held out.

"Hey there, Brother. Good ta see ya again."

Sam shook his hand, even though he wasn't happy with this, the man _had_ saved his life.

"Hey, Benny."

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Benny, this is Charlie, Garth, and Kevin."

They all shook hands, except Benny took Charlie's hand and kissed it.

"All y'all Hunters, then?"

Charlie shook her head. "I'm just a part-timer."

"And Dean told y'all what I am. I hope my bein' here don't offend anybody."

Dean cut in, setting the case he was carrying next to a rock and setting stuff up.

"Everyone agreed with what they were getting into. We're on a mission here, people."

It was like some kind of switch had flipped, and what was once a tense silence was now vibrating. The troops were ready to go into action.

"You all know where you're going. You leave here and exactly ten minutes later I start firing this." Dean kept setting up the sniper rifle.

"I'll pick off as many as I can. More will come out when they hear the noise. You'll jump the fences and get in there, and I'll come down soon when it's too crowded to use this. Everyone ready to go?"

They all nodded. "Okay. Get going."

As Sam walked past, he patted his brother on the shoulder, and got a small grin in return. "Be safe man, okay?"

"Yeah, Dean, you too. See you soon."

Sam had been paired with Benny, and they made their way to the farthest side of the building. Charlie, Kevin, and Garth would take the other side. As soon as they got close enough to the fence, they settled down to wait for Dean's signal.

"Dean wouldn't tell me much. He was pretty quiet the whole way down here. All I know is we're here to save his angel."

"Cas isn't an angel anymore, Benny, that's one of the problems."

Benny chuckled. "Don't mean he innit still _Dean's_ angel."

Sam sighed. "So you know about that."

"Knew since I first seen the two of 'em together. I don't know the man well, and personally I think he's got too many bats in the belfry…"

Sam snorted at the comment. "…but if Dean did all he says he did to get me back up here, I'm willin' to get the fella out."

Sam started to explain. "All these people are angels who fell. They're wanting to punish Cas because they think he caused them all to fall."

"Did he?"

"No. He was being tricked, by someone we all thought we could trust. But they're beyond understanding, and their leader is a little bit crazy. There's nothing more dangerous than a crazy lady who's got nothing to lose."

"Dean mentioned that you two were somehow in danger, too."

Sam shook his head. "Kinda. Since we're friends with Cas, they think we must have helped him, or something. Or they think that by doing something with us it'll hurt Cas more, I dunno."

The mangels started running and yelling in surprise when shots started firing down on them. Almost immediately, more came running from inside the building, trying to find the threat and eliminate it.

"That'd be our cue, Sam."

They made a run for the fence and hopped over it. Everyone that had been on this side had ran over to the other, so no one saw them coming.

It was a full scale battle after that. The mangels weren't armed, clearly thinking that they wouldn't need to be, since they were superior to the two people they thought were coming. They didn't expect five people and a vampire.

They'd armed themselves with some guns, but most of the action was with swords. It'd been Dean's idea. If they could stop bullets, guns may not work on all of them. But it would take a lot more psychic power to stop a fully grown person with a sword. And it looked like he was right.

The mangels didn't seem to be made up of the soldiers that Cas had described. These must have been lesser trained angels, because they were going down easily. Almost too easily. Like cannon fodder. By the time Dean got over the fence, there were only a few left.

Then it was over. They met up near the doors, which hung open. They were all covered in blood. "Dean, did this seem a little too easy to you?"

"Easy? Dude, I almost got my head ripped off."

Dean just ignored Kevin. "Yeah, a little bit. About how many do you think we got?"

They went around and counted. "Sixty."

"Well, he said there were seventy five. Fifteen we don't know about, counting that Ruth bitch."

Dean looked through the doors. "Okay. Remember, Charlie and Kevin you stay here and wait. Thirty minutes. You know what to do?" They both nodded.

"We're going in."

It was almost pitch black except for where the light from the door leaked through. They went single file behind Benny since he was the only one who could see. The place had been closed up for so long, it still smelled like old rotting blood. Sam was starting to feel nauseous.

Benny stopped. "Ten people, Brother," he whispered. "Along the walls."

Dean nodded. "We'll go right. Sam, Garth, go left."

That was where it got hard. These were the trained mangels. The soldiers. They were lightning fast, and just about impossible to see until they were a couple of feet in front of you. And these were armed with knives. Sam had been cut about four times before he was able to finally stab one, then cut its head off while it was distracted. He could hear the others fighting.

Sam managed to get two more, and then he must have let his guard down because he got slammed on the floor, knocking the sword away. Before the mangel could stab him, though, he managed to pull out his gun and shoot it. He got back up and it was quiet, except for their heavy breathing. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," that was Garth and he sounded far away.

"Sammy?"

"Here, Dean."

"Benny, that was the last of them, right?"

"Yeah, I don't see any more here."

They regrouped and kept walking. There was an echoing scream suddenly, pretty far away. Sam could feel Dean clench up. "Dean. Up ahead aways, there's two standin' outside a door."

They walked very quietly, and they took out the guards quickly, since it was at least two on one this time.

"Alright. Garth, wait out here for the others."

There was another long, high scream. Dean's voice shook. "Don't come in. No matter what you hear, Garth. Just wait, okay?"

"Yeah, Dean. Be safe in there."

Dean pushed the door open.

xxXX

There was no way Dean could have possibly been prepared for what was on the other side of that door. He knew they'd be treating Cas rough, probably torturing him in some way, but he had not been expecting this.

As they walked through the door, Ruth turned away from where she had Cas shackled and chained and looked at them, a smile on her face.

"Ah. The honored guests. I knew you'd come eventually. I hope the others weren't too difficult to get through, but I needed you to at least have to try some to get here."

She set what looked like a spoon on the table near her. "Yoseph, you can heal him now."

Cas was panting hard, and it sounded like he was crying, but he couldn't have been. She had torn his eyes out. A tall, lanky guy walked over and touched Cas on the shoulder. He gasped and was blinking again, eyes intact but blood still running under them.

Ruth waved her hand and Dean, Sam, and Benny were all thrown against the wall and were held there. She walked over to them.

"These last few days have been fun, Dean. Perhaps you recognize it. I was never there personally, but I heard the stories. I tried to make it as best as I could."

There were chains linked somewhere else in the shadowy room, and Cas had cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He was held up to be on his knees, arms held mostly up. The only clothing they had left on him were his boxers, which were blood-soaked, and he was striped with dried blood all over his body, even his hair was caked with it. A pair of hooks dangled down from the ceiling, but they weren't in use.

"Hell."

Ruth grinned. "Yes, Dean. Castiel showed no mercy to my bondmate, made him suffer and tormented him. I am only doing justice. Just as Kerubiel suffered, so shall Castiel suffer."

Dean had to think. The longer he could stall this bitch, the more time until the last part of their plan fell into place.

"Look, lady, if it's justice you're after, shouldn't you be torturing me, and making him watch?"

She laughed. "Oh, dear, I have every intention. But not right now."

Ruth walked back to where Cas was and patted his back, making him moan in pain.

"Little known fact. When an angel takes a vessel, their wings become a physical part of their body. Even when a vessel has been left, two small bony protuberances are left behind. Now, when an angel's Grace is torn out of them and they fall, their wings burn. Very unpleasant sensation. However, when an angel's Grace is simply taken from them or if fades away from being cut off from Heaven, their wings remain. Without their Grace they aren't even aware of them and can't manifest them, and in time the wings fade and go away. But there are ways to make them show themselves, if they're still there."

She raised her hands and spoke a sentence in what was clearly Enochian.

Two large wings, obsidian black, burst out from behind Cas' shoulders and he gasped. He began to tentatively fold them back in, but Ruth motioned to Yoseph, and suddenly the two hooks made sense.

As the hooks bit through the flesh of the wings, Cas let out a horrible scream, animal like, so pained as Dean had never heard a noise like it, even in Hell. Ruth walked back in front of Cas.

"An angels' wings are the most vulnerable part of them," she said needlessly.

She reached out and rubbed a hand over the feathers, then grabbed a handful and yanked. Cas screamed again, but it was more muted. He coughed and Dean saw some blood come out. Ruth walked over and pulled Dean's jacket open and put the feathers in a pocket and zipped it shut. "A…Memento."

Ruth went back the small table and picked up a large knife.

"Castiel, dear, this may sting some."

Cas was screaming again. Dean glanced back. Sam had his eyes shut and his face turned away. Benny was staring down at the floor. He tried while Ruth was concentrating on something else, but he still couldn't move. He had to look back. He wasn't going to abandon Cas now, even by looking away.

He was hissing and groaning as Ruth was cutting on his back, around where the wings connected to his body. She handed the knife to Yoseph and braced one hand against Cas' back, and took a firm grip at the base of the left wing. And then she pulled.

Cas was screaming again and it was even worse than before. The wing was torn loose then tossed aside. Ruth did the same to the right one.

"Yoseph. Heal him, but make sure the scars remain."

Cas was slumped over as far as the chains would allow him, and he was shaking so hard the chains rattled loudly. Dean wanted so badly to go over to him, but he couldn't get loose of the psychic hold.

Dean couldn't see his watch, but he knew it had to be soon. _Please hurry. Please get here soon. Please let me get to Cas_.

Just then, the wind started up, and Dean huffed a huge sigh of relief. Ruth was looking around furiously. "What is happening? What are you doing?"

The door banged open, and the last piece of the rescue mission came in, followed by Charlie, Kevin, and Garth.

Crowley walked into the room just like he walked into every room, like he owned the damn thing. "Well, isn't this a lovely reunion?"

The psychic hold dropped, and Dean immediately ran to Cas. He was distantly aware of Crowley telling Ruth who he was, explaining that he was here because he owed some favors.

"Cas?"

Dean knelt down in front of him and cradled his face, making him look up. Cas was breathing, but it was ragged and harsh. He'd probably shredded his vocal chords. "Cas? You in there?"

He blinked his eyes open and he groaned. "I'm hallucinating."

"No, babe, it's me. Really me. We came to get you."

A tear ran down Cas' face. "No, no. Ruth, I won't fall for this again."

Sam walked up behind them and started unlocking the shackles at his feet, having gotten the keys off Ruth. "See? Sammy's here too. It's really us."

Cas focused a little. "Dean?"

"Yeah, babe, it's me."

"Dean, hold on to him, okay?" Sam was about to unlock his wrists.

He wrapped his arms around Cas, touching him as gently as possible. He still groaned in pain. Like Alistair had done, they had tortured then healed enough for him to still feel the pain, but he wouldn't lose too much blood or die. The pain would last for a long time, even though there were no injuries. Not visible ones, anyway.

Dean focused in on the conversation behind them. Ruth was shrieking.

"No! No, this is not how this was supposed to happen!"

"You involved the Winchesters, love. They derailed your Apocalypse, did you really believe you could hijack their closest friend and they wouldn't come up with a half decent rescue plan?"

"I have an army of hundreds! There is no way…"

Sam had Cas' arms freed, and Dean was trying to find the least painful way to pick him up. He marched over to where the others were.

"You're lying. We talked to Death, he gave us your location and your numbers. After you two, there's only one left."

Ruth wasn't saying anything, just gaping her mouth open and shut in obvious shock and staring at Sam. Crowley sighed. "Well, as always it has been a pleasure, boys. Ta. Now, you and your friend are coming with me."

Crowley snapped his fingers and he and the two mangels disappeared.

"Everything go okay?" Sam was talking with the others.

"Yeah, Kevin did the summoning when you told us to, and Crowley pointed out where we needed to take out the demon repelling Enochian marks."

Even though Dean had tried to be as careful as possible, Cas couldn't hold back a scream when he picked him up. "Sam? Come get the keys outta my pocket and bring the car around."

Sam came over, and glanced down at Cas. "Dean, is he gonna be okay?"

Dean looked up, and he could tell Sam had tears in his eyes. "Yeah, but we gotta get him home. I've got him."

Sam went out and the others except for Benny followed him. They could use lights to find their way out now.

"Brother, you need any help?"

Dean shook his head, still reeling with what he'd seen, and how relieved he was that Cas was still alive and breathing against his neck. "Just lead the way, man."

Dean followed close behind him all the way out. Cas blinked in the sunlight and he looked around blearily as much as he could without moving his head. Sam wasn't here yet, the cars had been parked pretty far away.

"Benny?"

Cas' voice was just hardly a whisper. "Yeah, it's me aw'right. Hadn't seen you in a long while."

"What are you doing here?"

Benny grinned and bounced on his feet. "Dean here apparently snuck inta Purgatory through Hell, escorted by the King himself, and dragged me back out. Said he needed a big favor."

Dean felt Cas shift his head, and he groaned doing it. "I thought we didn't deal with demons."

He had to hold back a completely inappropriate laugh, the kind that snuck up on you after something stressful.

"Crowley's only half demon, it doesn't count."

Cas sighed into his shirt. "It feels nice out here."

He sounded like he was falling asleep. The Impala pulled up and Sam pushed open the rusty old gate. "The others went on ahead. I told them we'd be right behind."

Dean got in the backseat, laying Cas out, and he cried out while he was being moved. Sam had put down a blanket across the seat, and then left another one folded on the floor that Dean threw over Cas, then put his head in his lap. Benny rode shotgun and Sam started on the road home.

He must have fallen asleep at some point but he couldn't remember when. He checked, and Cas was still sound asleep, his head tilted into Dean's hand. It was dark outside the car.

"Sam? Where are we?"

"Oh, hey. We're about an hour out. Kevin and Garth went on, someone tipped them off on what might be a Chupracabra. Charlie's gonna meet us back at the bunker."

Benny turned his head. "How's he doin'?"

"He's asleep. It's gonna take him a long time…"

Dean suddenly felt a lump form in his throat. There was no telling what sort of pain Cas had gone through those three days Ruth had him. There were scars on him that would never heal, just like the scars on Dean, and to some extent Sam. He probably hadn't eaten, or had been given any water or rest from being chained up. He moved the blanket slightly to see. His skin was paler than Dean remembered it, and there was a wide, raw circle around his wrist.

Something dripped on Cas' forehead, and Dean realized he was silently crying. He remembered he was supposed to be talking to Benny, but he had started up a conversation with Sam.

Dean started moving his thumb across Cas' cheek and he turned his head slightly more into his hand, sighing in his sleep.

Charlie was waiting for them, sitting on the front of her car doing something with her iPad. Benny carried her bag for her while Sam unlocked the bunker. Dean started trying to get Cas out of the car without waking him up. Sam came back a minute later.

"Let me help, Dean."

"I've got it."

"Look, I know you want to take care of him, but we've got to get him down those stairs down into the bunker, and that's not a one person job. Let me help. Please."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, okay."

They made sure to keep Cas in his cocoon of blankets, and between them they got him down the spiral staircase. Dean wasn't gonna admit it to Sam anytime soon, but he probably couldn't have gotten Cas down here without falling. They made their way to one of the bathrooms, the one they usually used. Charlie had found another one in the bunker to get cleaned up in.

They set Cas down on the lid of the toilet. Dean had to hold on to him to keep him from slumping off. Sam started the hot water in the sink and went to get clothes. Together, they managed to wash all the blood off of him. Cas woke up a couple of times, groaning in pain when they moved him a certain way, but then he just drifted back off. There was a moment of silent awkwardness when Dean helped Cas to stand while Sam pulled off the bloody boxers and cleaned him before putting fresh boxers and sweatpants on him, then warm socks after Dean set him back down.

It took longer to get all the caked blood out of Cas' hair, and then to get him shaved because there was blood stuck all in the almost four day beard Cas had growing. But then they had him in a faded Foreigner shirt and he looked almost normal.

"Should we try to get some food in him, or just let him sleep?"

Sam was looking less shaken, now that Cas didn't look like he had taken a dive into a pool of blood.

"Go heat up some chicken broth. I don't think they fed him, and he needs something in him. I'll see if he'll wake up."

"Alright Dean."

Dean crouched down in front of Cas, hands on his shoulders keeping him in place.

"Cas? Babe, do you hear me?"

Cas hummed a little. "Open your eyes for me. Can you do that?"

One eye cracked open. "Dean?"

His voice was barely a whisper, and it came out like a croak.

"Hey. Yeah. Me and Sam got you all cleaned up. You're home, babe. I'm gonna take you up to the kitchen. Do you think you can eat some soup?"

Cas opened his eyes more and he was glancing around. "I'll try."

Dean managed to smile. "Gonna pick you up again."

When Dean got to the kitchen, there was a bowl of lightly steaming broth and a glass of water at the table, and Charlie and Benny were talking.

"Where'd Sam go?"

"Went to take a shower. Cas looks a world better."

He grunted as he sat Cas in the chair. Sam had put a spoon and a straw next to the bowl and a straw in the water, bless him.

"Here, Cas. Go slow, don't wanna burn anything."

Cas had closed his eyes again, but sucked on the straw. He hummed at the broth, Dean guessed he was enjoying it. They switched between water and broth until Sam came back.

"Dean, go get cleaned up."

"Sammy, I'm…"

"Not doing anything I can't. Go. Shower. You reek."

Benny nodded. "It's true, Dean. Get goin' before I start lickin' on ya."

Dean huffed but left anyway. He took a quick shower, and made sure all the blood was off him, then changed into clean clothes.

By the time he got back to the kitchen, Cas had finished the water and about half of the broth.

"Dean, I think he's done."

Cas' head was leaning to the side and he was mostly asleep again.

"Yeah, okay. Let's get him in his bed."

Dean got Cas settled, making sure he was all covered and was propped up some on his pillows. "Cas?"

He cracked an eye open, looking bleary again.

"Hey Cas. You're in bed, okay? Charlie snooped around and got your stuff back."

Dean pressed his phone into his hand. "If you need anything, just call me or Sam. You don't have to say anything, we'll come."

Cas nodded and Dean sighed. "Goodnight, babe."

In his wrecked voice, Cas managed to croak out, "Mon ange."

Dean turned the lights out, and let him sleep.

XxXx

Cas drifted in and out. He wasn't sure how long it was since Dean tucked him into his bed that he fully regained consciousness, but he managed to turn his head enough to look at the clock, and the numbers were lit up from the light out in the hallway coming through the open door. They must have left it open in case he needed anything. It was just after three in the morning.

He didn't know what had made him wake up fully for a minute, but then he heard the noises coming from next door. Cas couldn't hear any clear words, but Dean sounded like he was in distress, and Sam was speaking in calming tones.

He wanted to know what was happening. Why was Dean upset? He wanted to go to him. Cas was barely able to grip the covers enough to move them, and when he tried to lift them up, it felt like he was trying to push a tree off of him. That was enough to make Cas out of breath and a little nauseous.

But then he heard the door click shut. "Sam?"

It came out sounding horrible, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He tried a little louder. "Sam?"

He had obviously been in bed, because most of his hair on one side was sticking up, and he was blinking drowsily. "Cas? You okay?"

"Yeah." It was too hard to speak. "Dean?"

Sam looked confused for a second then came into the room some more. "He's okay. Just a nightmare."

He felt guilty, and it must have shown on his face. "Hey, not your fault. He'll be fine, don't worry. Go back to sleep, alright?"

It looked like Sam was about to fall asleep himself standing there, and Cas nodded. Sam left and turned off the hall light and soon he heard another door shut.

Cas continued drifting in and out. He never felt like he slept for a long while, but he heard movement out in the bunker sooner than he thought he would, but he was out again before he knew what it was.

"Cas?"

He was able to open his eyes and focus. It was Dean, and he had a tray in his hands that he sat on the desk.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

Cas tried to answer, but his throat was uncooperative. Dean brought some water over from the tray. "Here, this might help."

"Thank you." He still sounded horrible. "I've felt better."

Dean fiddled with the glass in his hand, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah."

Why was this awkward all of a sudden?

"Do you…uhm, do you think you can sit up to eat?"

Moving was no easier than it had been during the night, so Dean helped him sit up in the bed, propped up by pillows, and put the tray on his lap. "Okay, can you do this part?"

It was a bowl of oatmeal and coffee and orange juice. Cas was relieved to find that he was able to lift the spoon to feed himself and the cups were not very heavy. Dean sat in the desk chair, watching him eat, but not speaking.

Cas tried to speak again. "Are you okay?"

Dean looked up at him, obviously confused. "I'm fine. Why?"

Cas thought about the way to put things without using too many words but still get his point across. "Nightmare last night. Now acting weird."

He took a long sip off the juice. "I'm not acting weird."

Cas just nodded. Dean huffed and stood up, starting to pace. "Look…It's been a rough few days. I'm still…"

Dean gripped at his hair, clearly agitated. He wasn't good at this, and Cas couldn't help him much, even when everything was normal.

"Later."

Dean sighed and sat back down. "Okay, yeah. Thank you."

Cas kept eating, wanting to try and get the whole bowl down. He suddenly felt starved.

"Sam went to town. He said he would pick up some spray. It tastes like shit, but it numbs your throat and it might make it easier for you."

Cas nodded.

"I need to ask. Is anything wrong? Like, does anything feel broken still or…Do you think you need to go to the hospital?"

Cas froze. He'd been keeping everything in the back of his mind as best he could. Of _course_ things still felt broken, that was the point. He could still feel where there had been cracks in every bone in his body. Where nails had been hammered into him, where skin had been torn away, where he had been scalped. He could still feel the joy of having his wings again only to have them ripped from his body.

He knew what Dean meant. He did. He knew that he was only asking if he needed medical attention. But some human response took over his mind, and he saw red. It could have only been for a moment, but when Cas blinked and everything seemed normal, he realized the tray wasn't on his lap anymore. Somehow, it and its' contents were lying in the middle of the floor, glass and liquids everywhere.

Dean was gone.

Cas was still trying to figure out what happened when Dean came back with a broom and some towels. He couldn't read his expression, but he didn't seem angry. Dean just set about cleaning up the mess. Cas looked down and realized his hands were shaking.

"Dean…"

He had just straightened up from the floor. "I'll be back in a minute."

Cas watched his hands shaking until they became blurry, and he realized tears were in his eyes. He tried to lift a hand to wipe them away, but he couldn't.

A weight settled down beside him on the bed, and a soft fabric cleaned the tears away. Cas had closed his eyes, but he knew it was Dean. Soon, hands slipped into his so they didn't shake.

"It's okay, babe."

Cas let out a breath he had been holding and opened his eyes again. He pulled one of his hands from Dean and pointed at his desk, where there was a notepad. Dean went and picked it up. "This?"

He nodded. "You want a pen, too?"

Another nod. Dean sat back near his knees as Cas tried to write down what he had to say. His hands were shaking again by the time he was done and he handed it back to Dean.

'Dean,

I am sorry for my outburst. I don't even remember doing it and I don't know why I did it. I was trying to hold back those memories, and I suppose they were dragged up. I should not have thrown anything, though.

I am in pain, but I don't need to go to the hospital. That throat spray sounds good, and maybe you could bring me some Tylenol if it's not any trouble.'

He had drawn a heart at the end, and then thought of something else.

'And some more coffee.'

Dean chuckled as he read through his note, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Coming right up."

He sat back down on the bed after he handed the two pills and the coffee to Cas.

"You might've had a flashback."

Cas looked at him questioningly and he shrugged. "That's what it looked like. You got all glazed over then…well, you know. It happens."

Dean knocked his foot against the floor. "Yeah, Sammy told me you heard me last night. It's been a while since I'd had one, so I guess it freaked me out more than usual."

Cas was able to reach and pat Dean's knee, the most comforting he could be right now. He was finding that the longer he was awake, the more he could move. Dean covered Cas' hand with his own.

"I shouldn't've let you go on your own, Cas. I'm so sorry."

To Cas' dismay, it was Dean who was crying now. He set the mostly empty mug on the table beside his bed, and tried to scoot closer. After a minute or two, even though it had him panting and the room was spinning some, he had managed to get where he could put one arm around Dean's shoulders, and get him to lean so his head was on Cas' shoulder.

Dean cried for a while. Cas should have known Dean would blame himself, but there was nothing he could have done to stop it. All Cas could do to help Dean was rub circles against his arm and try to get better as fast as he could so he could prove that no lasting harm had been done.

He sat up eventually, eyes red and made even redder when he scrubbed under them with the sleeve of his shirt. Dean sniffled.

"Sorry…sorry."

Cas was starting to feel a little overexerted, but he made himself move his arm so he could put his hand over Dean's mouth.

"Quit that."

He let his arm drop. Dean seemed to realize how tired he was and helped Cas get back lying against the pillows. He could feel he was starting to drift off again, and Dean started to stand up, but Cas reached out and touched his hand.

"Stay please?"

Dean chuckled lightly, and even though he probably knew Cas had meant to stay until he fell asleep, he kicked off his shoes and lay down over top of the covers, grabbing Cas' hand and locking their fingers together.

"I'm not gonna leave."

XxxX

Over the next few days, Dean noticed that Cas was becoming more and more frustrated with what he once called 'idiotic human weakness'. Of course, he ignored that he could talk again, not for too long without numbing his throat, but it was getting better. He was able to wobble down the hall to the bathroom, and that that was as far as he could go for now, but he got stronger every day. He was fully conscious now, and slept like he normally would. His eating was back to normal.

But for some reason that probably only made sense to him, he didn't like that he wasn't already back to one hundred per cent. Dean caught him and helped him back to his room when Cas had tried walking to the kitchen to get something to drink and almost passed out in the library.

"Cas. You were chained up for days. Your muscles are gonna need a while until you're up for running around, and the more you push yourself, the worse you're gonna make it."

Cas had just slumped down in his arm chair and curled up looking miserable.

Dean sighed and knelt in front of him. "I know you don't like feeling useless. Just be patient, babe. Another week or so and you'll be fine again. Just…Please, be careful."

He had reached out to touch Cas on the knee, but he drew back with a miserable whimper. Dean made sure the hurt at that didn't reach his face. Cas had been flip-flopping a lot like this. He wanted Dean to be near him, then he didn't. It was the same with everyone else. Cas had enjoyed a long conversation with Charlie about 'The Hobbit', then drew away when she approached him again. Sam and Benny were no different.

"Okay. Well, do you still want that drink?"

He didn't respond, wouldn't even look at Dean, but he went and got it anyway, before leaving Cas on his own.

"How's he doing?" Sam paused what he was watching, another boring documentary about something boring that he had picked up. Charlie and Benny had run into town, taking Charlie's car, because no way that woman was getting near the wheel of his Baby.

"The same."

"Sorry, Dean."

He sank down next to Sam on the couch. "I just don't know what to do, man. He's so touch and go. I can't…There's nothing I can do to help him."

"I think he'll be okay. He has a lot to deal with, and it might be something he has to figure out on his own."

He just huffed. He was quiet long enough Sam unpaused his documentary and Dean sat there not really listening or watching. Something stupid about ducks.

Benny and Charlie came back not long after that. Benny had taken over a lot of the cooking, once he realized most of them had not really experienced what he said was 'food the way it was meant to be made'. Which really just consisted of a lot of seafood, and Benny bitching about where they were.

"Geographical center of the country. You know what that means, Brother? It means we are the most unlucky sonsabitches. This is the _exact_ place where you are the farthest from decent salt water that is possible. You couldn'ta inherited a fortress on the Delta?"

But he made due, and they had all kinds of 'proper food'. One morning they'd even had chicken and waffles, something Dean had never had, and didn't realize how he had been living before.

There was shuffling and Dean turned to see Cas pulling himself into the room, using the doorway and the walls as support.

"Cas, we just talked about this…"

But when Dean had stood up and got a close enough look at him, a single tear had fallen down his face. "Hey, what's…"

"I'd like to sit in here, where there is company," Cas' voice was weak, and Dean reached up and wiped the tear away. He glanced over, and Sam was staring at the TV.

"Okay. Yeah, come on."

Sam automatically moved to an armchair, and Cas and Dean got on the love seat. Cas didn't sit as close as he maybe normally would, but he reached over and grabbed Dean's hand.

Dean sighed and squeezed back, taking whatever he could, while he could.

By the time Sam's weird duck thing was over, Benny hollered that it was supper time. It was some kind of jambalaya, and it smelled awesome.

Even though he protested and tried to weakly push him away at first, Dean helped Cas get up to the kitchen by putting his arm around his waist and making Cas throw an arm over his shoulders. He was panting and holding onto Dean for dear life by the time they made it up the steps, but Dean wasn't going to say I told you so.

XXxx

Cas didn't know what was wrong with himself.

He suspected it was another contradictory human reaction, such as being afraid and acting angry instead. All he knew for certain was that he disliked it.

Now that he was actually sleeping instead of drifting in and out all the time, he was plagued by nightmares again. He tried the technique that Dean had taught him Florida that had worked since, but these were persistent, and he often woke up sweating, but freezing cold. The nightmares tended to follow a pattern. He always caused harm one of his friends in some way or another, directly or indirectly. In one, he had been forced to watch as Dean was tortured by Ruth in his place. In another, the rescue attempt had gone wrong and everyone was captured and then killed in front of him. Some were scenarios that hadn't happened, hunts they hadn't been on and something horrible happened to Sam or Dean or both. And then there was the resurgence of the old dreams, Naomi's office and her drill…A warehouse full of dead Deans.

While in his awake hours, he seemed to occasionally flashback to his nightmares and he no longer wanted to face his friends, feeling fear that what he had seen might come to pass. He knew it bothered them, especially Dean, but he didn't know how to explain.

One night, Cas woke up, mid-nightmare about the Impala being pushed off a cliff while Dean and Sam were still in it. He sat in his bed, wondering what had woke him, when he heard a pained noise next door from Dean's room. He shakily got out of his bed and went down the hall.

Cas knocked, but pushed the door open, closing it behind him and he made his way to the desk in the room and turned on the lamp. Dean was shaking in the bed, tossing his head back and forth, and making pained noises. Cas could make out words like 'no' and 'please' every so often. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Dean?"

There was no response. "Dean? You're okay. Wake up." He gently put his hands on Dean's shoulders and shook him lightly.

"Dean? Wake up, please."

His eyes flew open and he sat up with a jerk. "Cas?"

"You were having a nightmare."

Dean rubbed his eyes and groaned. "God. I'm sorry I woke you up, babe. Go…go back to bed, I'll be fine."

Cas shook his head. He wanted to stay here. "I was having a nightmare, too."

Dean looked at him. "You've been having nightmares?"

"A lot. Every night."

He sighed and scooted up so he was sitting in his bed a little straighter. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"They're disturbing."

"_All _nightmares are disturbing, Cas."

"They are about you. And Sam. Sometimes Kevin, or Charlie, or Benny, or Garth."

Dean rubbed one of his eyes again with the heel of his hand. "Is that why you've been acting weird? That and you're upset about not healing fast enough."

Cas shrugged. "I suppose."

Dean leaned forward and took both of Cas' hands. "It'll be okay. Nightmares get better."

"You're still having them." Cas didn't mean the words to sound accusing, but they came out that way. Dean clutched at his hands tighter.

"Yeah. Well. You don't watch someone you love get tortured without a little damage afterwards."

And Cas had no idea how to respond to that. Dean loved him? Was he required to say it back now? Even though he wasn't sure?

"I'm sorry…"

Dean leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first time they had properly kissed each other since before Cas had been kidnapped. He had almost forgotten how incredible it felt. He had intentions of deepening it, but Dean pulled away.

"Don't apologize. None of this is your fault, babe. The nightmares will stop. Just takes a while."

He squeezed Cas' hands again. "Wanna sleep in here?"

Cas' mind had been in a light fog since Dean had broken the kiss. _That_ was what he wanted. So he leaned forward.

Dean made a surprised noise, but he wasn't pulling away or stopping. This was the closest thing to 'good' Cas had felt since coming back to the bunker. After a couple minutes, they had to break apart. Cas had since separated their hands and he was cupping Dean's face. They remained close, breathing heavily into each other's spaces. Dean must have been able to read something in his face.

"Cas, you sure you wanna do this?"

He had no idea what 'this' was, but, yes, he needed to be close to Dean. It was the only thing that helped him.

"I need you, Dean."

Dean groaned and flopped back down, pulling Cas with him, and he latched on Cas' neck. "Cas. You're sure?"

It tickled where Dean breathed on the places on his neck he had made wet. "I trust you to stop if I tell you I am uncomfortable, Dean. I need to be with you in some way."

"God, Cas, I want that, too."

Dean pushed the covers back and pulled them so Cas was pressed against him. He reached up and touched Cas' face, before he reached down and grabbed his hips, pulling him down.

Cas hummed softly, feeling a weird, numb tingling through his body. He leaned down and kissed Dean again. Dean was reaching down, and slipped his hands under the band of his sweatpants, squeezing the flesh he found there.

Cas was at a loss. What was he supposed to do next? Dean chuckled. "Sit up, babe."

Dean stripped his own shirt off, then reached over to do the same for Cas. Moving that way still made his shoulders twinge, but he made sure not to show Dean. He pulled them back down and then rolled them over. Cas felt a little relieved. Yes, Dean should be in control right now, he knew more about this than he did.

And boy did he. Dean must have been holding back before, because suddenly everything felt different. The kissing was more intense, where ever Dean touched him it felt like he was leaving trails of fire. The new sensations were almost too much, but Cas didn't mind.

His body was acting seemingly on its own accord. Hands running up and down Dean's back, lips attaching to his collarbone and over to his shoulders. He was clearly aware of the light moaning noises Dean made, but he couldn't tell if he was making any noises of his own.

Dean pulled back slightly. "Hey, lift your hips up."

Cas did as he asked, and Dean pulled his pants down off his hips, and he sat up to pull them the rest of the way off, then shoved his own off his legs. Cas took a moment to admire.

Of course, he had seen Dean naked many times. But this was different. Dean was sporting a half-hard erection, and Cas was the cause of that. It was a new feeling, almost one of pride. Cas grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back down. They both moaned loudly, their dicks touching each other, and Cas lifted up, trying, wanting to get closer.

They had a rhythm started up. Dean with his hands holding Cas by the hips and the backs of his thighs, panting into his hair and his ear, kissing in between moans. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, holding on because it felt like he was going to float away, and burying his face in Dean's neck.

"Cas…Babe…I'm gettin' close…"

Cas just nodded, the only thing he could do right now. He was unable to tell how close he was to his own orgasm.

Dean came first, a long heavy moan and a feeling of warm stickiness between them. He all but collapsed on Cas, but he reached down and took hold of him in his hand. Cas shuddered. It was a whole different sensation, and as Dean rubbed him up and down, his cock already wet from where Dean had came moments before, it didn't take Cas very long to reach his own climax.

Dean settled along next to him as Cas came down. He knew he should be basking in a wondrous afterglow, like Dean was doing, but something horribly human was happening again. Cas could feel tears falling, and soon he was shaking.

"Cas?" Dean had shoved himself so he was leaning over him. "Babe? What's wrong?"

"I…I don't know!" Cas was barely able to choke the words out through his tears. Dean just lay there and looked dumbfounded.

"What…You said you were okay with this!"

"I was!" The crying was getting worse and he had no idea what was causing it. He'd been fine. Dean flopped away and got off the bed, pulling on the first pair of sweatpants he came across.

"Wh…What are you doing?"

Cas was still choking around his words, and he could feel his face turning red out of embarrassment. This was not how _this_ was supposed to go.

"Look, I just…I need a minute and clearly so do you."

"Don…Don't leave, pl…please!" But the door had already shut behind him and Cas buried his head into the pillow and started truly sobbing, completely ignoring the uncomfortable now cold stickiness on his skin and the muscles that were starting to protest being used so much. It felt like he lay there for hours, and eventually he fell asleep still crying.

He woke up to a hand running through his hair and he jerked up. It was Dean, and he had a sad look on his face. "How long…"

"It's only been about thirty minutes. I'm sorry I left. I just couldn't understand, but I think I do now."

Dean held a damp wash cloth, and pulled the covers back and cleaned the dried fluids off of him, then handed him his shirt and sweatpants. "Let's go back to your room."

Cas had to lean on him for support to walk the short distance next door and then get settled in his bed. Dean slid in next to him and held him close. Cas felt like he was in some sort of shock, a numb feeling in his head. He had gone from feeling so amazing to feeling awful in such a short amount of time it felt like some sort of whiplash.

"Okay. So, we've both had sex before. But you've never had sex as a human. I know you thought you were a human when you were with that Daphne chick, but you weren't really. So you never really had that hormone rush before. When people sleep with each other, especially if it's with someone they, uhm…really like, there's all this hormonal shit that happens. And yeah, it's intense at first. So…I guess, your body just went hormone crazy? That, or it was the worst sex ever and you're being too polite to tell me."

There was a silence, and Cas realized he was supposed to respond. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin our time together. It was perfect, Dean."

Dean held him closer. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything. First times with people are always gonna be awkward one way or another. But, hey, at least we both liked it, right?"

Cas huffed. "I think we liked it very much."

He moved his head and kissed Cas gently. "Good."

They lay in a long silence and Cas was about to nod off again. "Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I meant what I said before. I do love you. You don't have to say it back or…or anything. But I wanted you to know."

Cas snuggled closer and kissed him. "I do know, mon ange."

"What does that mean?"

He smiled. "You were supposed to look it up."

"How can I look it up? I can't spell it."

"How do you think it's spelled?"

"Em, oh, en, ay, en, jay."

Cas laughed, and it was the first time he could remember laughing in a long while. "Close enough."

Dean sighed. "I can't look it up on 'close enough'."

He yawned. "You'll figure it out."

"Or you could tell me."

"_Goodnight_ Dean."

"'Night, Cas."

xxXX

When Dean woke up, Cas was gone but the bed was still mostly warm, so he figured he'd gone to the bathroom. He stretched and got out of the bed and opened the door to go to his room and grab clean clothes for a shower. Out in the hallway, Sam was carrying a bunch of his stuff under his arm.

"Sammy? What are you doing?"

He huffed. "Moving to another part of the bunker."

"Why?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Because you're loud."

The bathroom door opened and Cas stuck his head out, toothbrush in hand, to see what was going on. "And you are louder."

Sam hauled off his stuff and Cas looked at Dean who was trying not to laugh because he knew Cas would be mortified once he figured it out.

"What was he talking about, Dean?"

Unfortunately, Sam hadn't got out of hearing range. "I'm talking about your noisy man-sex!"

Cas slapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes went wide. Dean couldn't hold back laughing anymore. He raised his voice. "Don't worry, Cas, he's just being a bitch because he isn't getting any!"

"Stop being so juvenile!"

"Not 'til you stop being a girl!"

Sam grumbled something and went on to his new room. Cas had turned red and looked like he wanted to shrivel up and die.

"Hey, it's alright."

Cas looked at him guiltily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Sam is just gonna whine a while then he'll shut up. He's been telling me for a while he's happy we're together. And we weren't _that_ loud. Just ignore him."

"Uhm. Okay." He ducked back in the bathroom and Dean heard the sink running. He got some clothes and crossed the hall. Cas was still there, finishing his teeth. Dean grinned. "Hey. Go get what you want to wear for the day."

Cas spit in the sink and looked at him curiously. "Okay. Why?"

"Thought it might be nice…We could conserve water and just take a shower together."

He blushed and looked over at the shower stall. "That sounds…fine."

Cas left and Dean went on ahead and started the shower and got in. It wasn't long before he heard movement, and then the door slid back and Cas stepped in.

"Is the water okay?"

Cas just nodded and shivered a little. "Hey, you comfortable with this?"

Cas smiled slightly. "Yes. I just have a feeling we're only doing this to bother Sam."

Dean shrugged and pulled Cas closer so he was under the water more. "Not 'only'."

He reached and grabbed the coconut shampoo he knew Cas used and squirted some in his hand. "Here."

Cas closed his eyes as Dean washed his hair, his lips parting slightly and water catching on his eyelashes and the dip of his collarbone. Dean kept Cas' head tipped back so the shampoo kept rinsing out, but he leaned down, kissing him across his chest, down to his ribs, and across his abdomen. He and Dean weren't built like Sam, all chisley, but where Dean had a slight stubborn pudge around his middle that would never go away, Cas was flat and tight.

"Dean? What are you doing?"

Cas' voice was shaking. Dean looked up. All the shampoo had rinsed out and Cas was looking down at him like he was watching some priceless thing. Dean grinned. "You still trust me?"

"Always." It was a quick answer, one Cas obviously didn't need to think about. Dean quit bending and just got down, the textured bottom of the shower biting into his knees. He moved forward so he could kiss along Cas' hipbones, nosing into the patch of hair just below his belly button.

Cas sighed and leaned back against the wall of the shower, needing the support. Dean grinned against his skin. "You want me to stop?"

"No." Another quick answer. Cas was starting to grow hard and Dean kissed along his shaft. He moaned at that and reached down, not gripping or pulling at Dean's hair, but just running his fingers through it. Maybe it was the acoustics of the bathroom, but Cas _was_ loud.

Dean hadn't done this before, but he'd had enough blow jobs that he figured he could make due. No one was complaining yet, anyway. He kept sucking kisses along Cas' dick and pumped him in his hand, twisting his wrist every so often until Cas was flushed and hard. Dean glanced up, blinking water out of his eyes. He had his head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed and he was panting already.

"Hey? You with me?"

Cas glanced down and smiled. "Yeah, Dean."

He carded his other hand through Dean's hair, and Dean leaned forward again. He kept a hand at the base, and took enough of his cock in his mouth as he could. It was weird, totally weird, not like doing this with a girl at all. But he liked it. The heaviness in his mouth, the salty tangy taste, and he knew he was loving it just because it was all _Cas_.

Dean started sucking and moving his mouth up and down experimentally, making sure to not gag himself, because dry-heaving was about as unsexy as it got. Cas was moaning and panting, his voice wrecking itself again. "Oh…Dean…"

Dean hummed and Cas moaned a little louder. He was sucking and pulling with earnest now, and twisting his wrist around the base.

Hands tightened in his hair. "Guh…I think…"

Dean got the point but he sucked harder and Cas came in his mouth, moaning loudly and slumping against the wall. Never one to go halfway, Dean swallowed everything he could, some dripping out of the corners of his mouth. He stood back up, his knees hurting a little.

"So, what did you…umph…"

Cas had grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, his tongue going as deep into Dean's mouth as it could. Dean chuckled. Looked like he had a kinky little angel on his hands now that he'd got him going.

Cas pulled away, barely supporting his own weight. "You…", he was out of breath. "You are the proof of God's existence."

Dean laughed and pulled him so he was helping him stand some. "I think that's the best complement I have ever gotten after going down on someone."

After Cas had gotten a little bit of strength back, they continued with the actual showering part of the shower. Cas washed Dean's hair for him, and they lathered each other with soap.

Dean, of course, was hard as a rock still and when Cas brought his soapy hand down on Dean, well he couldn't hold back a groan. He was gonna take care of it himself, not wanting to over exert Cas, but he seemed insistent.

Cas was eager to learn the back and forth motion of his hand and how it drove Dean crazy. He didn't last long, just the fact that it was Cas and it was Cas' hand on him was almost enough.

Their shower had lasted a lot longer probably than if they had taken separate ones, but neither of them were complaining. After the water was off and they were towel drying, Cas seemed off.

"Babe, you okay?"

He nodded but it was shaky. "I guess I'm a little tired." As he said that his knees almost folded. Dean caught him and set him on the toilet lid after throwing a towel over it.

"We over did it, huh?"

Cas shook his head. "It's fine. Just give me a few minutes."

Dean got dressed then he started helping Cas. He seemed to have steadied himself and was able to finish dressing himself when Sam banged on the door.

"_Not_ cool, guys! Breakfast is ready and I hope you both choke on it!"

Dean laughed as he stormed off. Cas had turned red again. "Dean, we can't go out there now!" He sounded slightly hysterical.

"Why not?"

"They're all going to be thinking about…" Cas waved his hand at the shower.

Dean laughed again. "Actually, I think they're gonna be doing all they can to _not_ think about it."

Cas still looked mortified. "Okay. I'll go out first and make sure everyone's cool, and you come out in about five minutes. How's that?"

He just nodded and went back to pulling on his shoes.

Dean headed into the kitchen, where everyone was already sitting around the table and passing plates around. He leaned up against the back of his chair.

"Okay, guys. I know you probably got a ass-load of jokes you wanna use, but Cas is freaking out enough as is, so keep them to yourselves."

Benny held his hands up. "I don't know nothin' 'bout nothin', Brother."

Sam just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but went on eating. Charlie already had her mouthful of food and it looked like she wasn't paying Dean a damn bit of attention.

"Alright, then."

He sat down and started filling up his own plate. Benny had done the chicken and waffles again.

Cas eventually came into the room, approaching the table like it was infested with harpies or something.

But everyone acted like normal, and as the day went on Cas was less and less worried that someone was going to say anything.

xxXX

After a couple more weeks, Charlie and Benny had decided to say their goodbyes. Charlie had work to get back to, and since her way home was going to take her through Louisiana, she had offered to give Benny a ride.

Benny told Dean he was thinking of settling in New Orleans, maybe find another restaurant to work in, or even get on a shrimping boat. And in a bigger city, there would be more blood banks to 'borrow' from.

"Who knows, Brother? City like that, maybe I'll feel more at home."

Charlie had been appalled to find out that they didn't have a single gaming system in the bunker, and had immediately ran out to her car to grab a spare PS2 and a hoard of games that she said she'd been planning on selling anyway.

Cas had gone through another change, only a couple of days after the 'Shower Incident'. Now, he was pretty much apathetic about everything. Dean had offered to go out to the garden with him, to take him into town, to do just about anything. But all he seemed to want to do was sit or lay in his room or stare blankly at the TV. Dean had tried getting into the bed with him, or lay with him on the loveseat, but Cas had shooed him away every time. He had _no_ idea what was wrong.

After Charlie brought the games in, suddenly that was all he was interested in. He played hours upon hours of games, until he was half-asleep in front of the screen. Dean practically had to tear him away for things like meals.

And that's what Cas was doing while Dean was helping Benny and Charlie load up her car. Charlie was checking one of her bags for something, and Dean pulled Benny to the side.

"Look, man, I know how things happened last time…"

Benny just chuckled and looked up at the sky. It was overcast, so he wasn't having any problems with the sun. "I think this is gonna be different. Things just kinda went south, you know?"

"Yeah. But if you're thinking about goin' back…"

"Then I know where to find you, Brother."

Dean chuckled. "Okay. Good."

"And you call on me if you get in another pickle, alright?"

"Yeah. And you too."

Benny reached out and grabbed him in a big bear hug. Dean heard the bunker door open, and knew it was Sam and Cas. As Benny let go of him, Dean had an idea.

"Hey, you know some French, right?"

"Little bit."

Dean had a feeling he was going to be laughed at. "What's 'mon ange' mean?"

Sure enough, Benny started chuckling. "Why you asking?"

"Just tell me," Dean huffed. Sam and Cas were almost up to the cars.

"Means 'my angel'. Not that hard to figure out, Brother."

Benny was still laughing as he shook Sam's hand and Charlie came over with the book she'd been looking for.

"Here, Cas. I was telling you about this the other day. I have another copy at home."

Charlie pushed a ratty paperback into his hands. Dean remembered the conversation, if it could be called that. She had talked at Cas, something about the game he was playing, and role-playing, and Dungeons & Dragons. There was a book series around one of her favorite characters, Drizzle or something.

Cas looked at the cover blankly. "Thanks."

Charlie smiled at Dean, almost sadly. "Well, Fearless Leader, I suppose this is goodbye again."

He almost flinched at the wording but managed to smile back as she gave him a hug too. "He'll get better. Give it some more time," she whispered in his ear before pulling away.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Charlie."

She gripped his shoulders and looked at him very seriously. "I love you."

He had to roll his eyes. "I know."

Charlie went to say bye to Sam, and Benny was shaking Cas' hand.

"You take care, okay?"

Cas just nodded. "You, too."

Charlie was getting in her car. "Alright. Time to hit the road!"

Benny went over to his side. "Stay safe, Brothers!"

The three of them stayed outside, Sam and Dean waving until the car was out of sight, and their friends were gone.

XxxX

"Do you think Cas is up to going on a case?"

Dean paused stirring and turned to where Sam was at the dining room table on his laptop. Benny had left Dean some recipes and over the past couple of days he'd been trying some of them out. "Huh?"

"Listen. Erwin, Tennessee. Over the last two weeks, there have been ten incidences of extreme property damage. Small trees have been knocked over, siding and gutters torn off houses, smashed windows. Cars have been found with huge dents in them. At one of the homes, the owner had security cameras up, and the video went to static right around the time the damage was done."

"Sounds like a ghost," Dean turned back to the stew.

"Yeah. You think we should go?"

Dean stared into the pot that was bubbling, and it looked absolutely nothing like it did when Benny had made it.

"We'll leave in the morning."

A couple of hours later, Dean had a small bag with a sketch pad, a pencil box with all kinds of drawing stuff, a transistor radio he had found and fixed up in the bunker, and a couple of sandwiches. He set it next to the front door then went into the T.V room. Cas was slouched in one of the armchairs, his eyes glazed over and the screen being the only light in the room washed his face out and he looked pasty. He was also wearing a sweatshirt of Sam's that was about five times too big for him and it made him look like someone who hadn't eaten in months.

Dean snatched the controller out of his hands and turned the console off. Cas just blinked up at him hazily, didn't even get mad or anything.

"Come on, we're going outside."

"Why?" There was almost no emotion in his voice.

Dean shook his head and sighed. He hated seeing Cas like this. "We need to talk about a few things."

He blinked at him again. "You're breaking it off with me. Aren't you?"

Dean felt like the floor had just vanished. "What? _No_! Why would you even think that?"

Cas just shrugged. Dean sighed again and pulled Cas up. "Come outside with me. Please."

He followed Dean, who picked his bag up off the floor on their way out. He'd thought about going out to the garden, but Cas was pretty pitiful looking so Dean helped him up and they settled on the hood of the Impala. He set the pad and pencil box in Cas's lap, and turned the radio onto a classics station and set in on the hood behind them. Cas looked down at the items, like he didn't know what to do with them.

"I think we both know something's wrong, and we need to talk about it."

Cas sighed and flipped to a blank page. "I'm tired, Dean."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, you've been getting about four hours of sleep a night."

"No. I mean…I guess it's an emotional tiredness."

His voice was flat. Lifeless. Tired.

"Okay. You wanna talk about it?"

Cas chose a black pencil. "I should be dead."

Dean felt a chill. "What are you talking about?"

There was a long pause. "You know I've been brought back several times. And each time I died, I either did for the greater good, or because I had done something devastating. What I did to Ruth is unforgivable. You should have let her kill me."

He gawked at Cas for a minute. "Why are you saying that? You did what you thought was right at the time. Yeah, you were being crazy and shit, but Raphael's followers would probably have killed you."

Cas was heavily focused on his sketchpad now. "No. They couldn't have harmed me. They were defenseless. And Kerubiel…A Bond Mate is sacred. By the laws of Heaven, Ruth had every right to do what she did, and she should have killed me."

"Cas, come on…"

"No." His voice was hard now. "I took too many innocent lives. I was terrible angel, and now I'm this weak, pathetic human. I _wish_ Ruth had killed me."

Dean was having trouble breathing. "Don't. Don't you dare even think about it."

Cas blinked and looked up at him. "I'm not going to kill myself."

He sighed. "Cas, you're freaking me out."

"I apologize. You wanted to know what was on my mind. That's it. The only thing I deserve is death."

"So you're just gonna give up on living?"

He shrugged. Dean thumped his head against the windshield. "God, Cas. You are really scaring me right now. I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"I'm not _doing_ anything."

"Yeah. That's the problem."

Cas frowned and just focused on drawing. Dean reached into the bag and got out one of the sandwiches. It was several minutes later, and the radio station had gone to a commercial break before Cas finally spoke again.

"I miss being an angel. That's what I'm so upset about, okay? I miss it and I know I'll never be one again." Dean looked over, and Cas was blinking tears away.

"There was a moment. Right after Ruth said the spell and my wings manifested. I thought that maybe…God finally heard me. He'd given my Grace back and I was going to be able to fly again. But then…"

Cas was full on crying now, and Dean just wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to his side. The elephant in the room was gone now. Cas hadn't talked about what had happened, and Dean wasn't going to ask, but he knew it would come up eventually, and now it had.

Dean closed his eyes and just held Cas as he shook. After several minutes, the sobs turned down to sniffles, and eventually he was quiet.

"Feel any better, babe?"

Cas sniffed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of Sam's sweatshirt. "Yeah. A little bit."

He straightened up and Dean pulled his arm back. "You gotta tell us when stuff like this starts bothering you. Don't let it build up until you get so down that you say shit like 'I wanna die'."

Cas nodded. "Yeah, okay."

He turned his attention back to the drawing, and Dean finished his sandwich. "Hey I brought one for you, too. If you want it."

Cas smiled faintly at him, the first smile he had seen in a long while. "Thank you."

As Dean handed him the food, Cas handed him his sketchpad. Dean looked at it for a minute. "Is that really what I look like?"

Cas chuckled around a huge mouthful of food. "You've seen yourself in a mirror."

Dean studied it some more. He'd drawn him from the side, down to his shoulders. He was looking down and his eyes were squinted like he was concentrating on something. "This is good, Cas."

"Thank you."

Dean turned to the next blank page and grabbed a dark blue pencil out of the box. "My turn."

Cas tried to glance over. "What are you…"

"Shoosh! No peeking."

Cas rolled his eyes and settled to watching the clouds overhead. After a minute, Dean heard him softly humming along with the song on the radio. He'd been tuning it out, but focused now. It was a Joni Mitchell song, 'Both Sides Now'.

He added 'likes Joni Mitchell' to the infinite list of things he knew about Cas that he loved.

"Okay, done," he announced a few minutes later.

Cas sat back up a little and looked at the drawing. "Uhm. That looks nothing like me."

"What? Yeah, yeah look. There's your floppy hair, and the eyes are blue…"

"My arms and legs aren't sticks."

Dean closed the sketch pad and gently clipped the back of Cas's head with it. "You're one of those pretentious, art critique douche canoes, aren't you?"

Finally, he got a real smile out of Cas. "That was _not_ art, Dean."

Dean huffed and handed it back. "Sammy says there is something worth investigating in Ohio."

"Yeah?"

"We're gonna leave in the morning. All three of us."

Cas picked at a cuticle, a habit he'd started up again. "Okay. I think I can do that."

Dean pulled him into a sideways hug. "Awesome."

XxxX

Erwin was dull and sleepy. It was hard to believe that anything remotely supernatural was happening here, and Cas thought that maybe Sam had put too much thought into coming here.

Cas and Dean went to the police station to watch the only video of any of the attacks, and to get the records of the victims. Sam was out asking around about the history of the town.

They had been looking through the files for almost an hour when Sam came back to the hotel room, holding a folder crammed with papers.

"Okay, so this town is so squeaky clean it makes soap look dirty…"

"No shit," Dean interrupted and pushed some papers out of the way. Cas shared the sentiment.

"But. There is something that happened here. Longtime residents don't like to talk about it, it's really taboo."

Dean sighed. "Alright. Spill."

"In 1916 there was a traveling circus a few towns away. After one of the shows, the elephant handlers were taking them for water, and one of them poked at an elephant named Mary to get her to hurry up."

"Didn't like that, huh?"

"No. They later found she had an infected tooth, and she trampled him. Usually, they would have sold her to another circus, but some people from the audience saw what happened."

Cas felt a chill go down his spine. He didn't like the direction this story was headed.

"Here, Erwin, was the closest town with a railway with the equipment strong enough to hang an elephant. Everyone in town came to watch. They hoisted her up with a crane but the chain was weak and it snapped. She fell and broke a hip, so they got a stronger one and did it again."

Sam rustled in his papers and set one on the table. The image was fuzzy, but still clear enough to make out the shape of an elephant.

"No one talks about it here, and there isn't anyone alive that I could find who could remember where she was buried, but it was in the rail yard."

Dean huffed. "Dude, we drove past there, that rail yard is huge. How are we supposed to find a big-ass skeleton?"

Cas frowned at him, but he didn't think Dean noticed. How could he be so disrespectful about this?

Sam shrugged. "Haven't figured that out yet."

Dean rubbed at his eyes. "Okay. Well, we're sure this is what's causing the damage?"

He felt a weird jolt of anger. The elephant spirit was _not_ a 'this'.

Sam pointed out some of the pictures of the 'crime scenes'. "Yeah, I mean look. Smashed trees, and some of these 'pits' they found in peoples' yards look an awful lot like footprints." He pulled out another printed out picture, obviously of what an elephant footprint was supposed to look like.

"See?"

"Yeah, okay. I'm buying it. Pissed off elephant ghost. We just need to find the bones to burn."

Cas snapped. "Why? Can't we do something else? Something to put her spirit to rest."

Dean looked at him like he thought he was crazy, which only served to make Cas madder. "Cas. This isn't a human, it's not gonna think the same way we do. We can't communicate with it to find out what it wants. This is the only way."

He shook his head. "No. There has to be something else."

Dean looked towards Sam. "Help me out here, man."

Sam had his eyes stuck to the floor. "Uh. I think I forgot a thing. Be right back." He hurried out the door.

There was a long silence, and Cas refused to look at Dean. After a few minutes, Dean let out a sigh of the long suffering.

"Look, I know you like animals. And that's cool. But before too long this ghost will end up killing someone. And we can't let that happen, you know that. We have to get rid of it…"

Cas snapped his gaze back onto Dean. "She is _not_ an _it_."

"Man, you aren't thinking straight on this."

"_You_ are the one not thinking straight! How can you be so cold about this? Just because she's not a human, she doesn't deserve your respect?"

He stood up and started pacing. "They have feelings and emotions and souls, Dean."

"Hey, we burn bones all the time. _Human_ bones. They move on. The way I see it, we're doin' them a service. So I am treating this like I would a normal ghost hunt. And it's never bothered you before."

"Well, it's bothering me now."

"Dude, I'm getting that."

Cas glared at him. "I'm going out."

Dean startled. "What?"

"I. Am. Going. Out." He made sure to emphasize each word.

He grabbed the jacket that he'd thrown on the bed that he and Dean had shared the night before and tugged it on. Cas was almost at the door when Dean grabbed his wrist.

"Let go."

"No, not 'til you…"

Dean didn't have a chance to finish the sentence. Cas was angry, and still confused about his emotions, and he wanted to get out for fresh air and away from Dean. So he acted on an instinct; he turned and brought his knee up hard in-between Dean's legs. He made an almost comical squawking noise and let go of Cas's hand. He took the opportunity and bolted out the door.

xxXX

Sam stared at the motel room door and sighed. He didn't know what he might find when he went in. Possibly intense and angry silence, possibly calm and friendly. Worst case scenarios were they were throwing punches at each other or were making out on the bed. He sighed again and shook his head before unlocking the door.

Dean was sitting on one of the beds, holding a hand towel full of ice on his crotch and glaring at the T.V.

"Uh, Dean?"

"Hey Sammy." He sounded pissed.

"Where's Cas?"

Dean's eye twitched slightly. "Dunno. Bastard left. _Again_."

"What happened to you?"

"I grabbed his hand and he kicked me in the nads, that's what happened!"

Sam couldn't help it, he just had to laugh a little bit. Dean glared at him. "Shut up Sam!"

"Sorry, man. Look, I went by a pawn shop and I found this."

He held up a wooden crate with something that looked like a metal detector in it. "It bounces waves into the ground, and it'll show if something is buried. We can find the grave now, I just have to fix this. It's all in pieces, so I gotta get to work."

Sam left Dean to his sulking, and started trying to put everything together. After an hour or so, he realized this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. And the more time went by, Dean's funk got heavier and heavier until Sam wanted to just throw something.

There was a click in the lock and, old habits, Sam reached back for the gun in his waistband, but it was Cas.

"Hey, man."

"Hello Sam."

He looked around. Dean was glaring at the T.V. hard enough he was surprised it hadn't caught fire yet. Cas was looking down at his hands, tearing at his cuticles again.

"Where've you been?" Sam was going to try and break the tension.

"The park." No elaboration.

Sam rolled his eyes. These two needed to get a grip.

"You want me to leave so you guys can…"

"No!," they both said at the same time.

"Oh for the love of…Just hash this out. Please? We're on a job here and I need to get this thing to work, and I can't work if you're being all bitchy at each other."

Dean just crossed his arms and Cas wouldn't look up from the floor. Sam looked back and forth between the both of them, waiting to see who would be the first to break. It ended up being Dean.

"Okay, Sammy. You're right. We'll go on a drive." He hesitated and finally looked at Cas. "If that's cool with you?"

Cas just nodded and walked back out the door. Dean huffed and stood up, wincing. "Hopefully this won't take too long."

He grabbed his jacket with the keys in them and went out. Sam sighed in relief.

Peace at last.

XxXx

The drive was silent. Dean kept having to adjust in the seat because he kept getting uncomfortable. He hadn't believed it when Cas had nailed him like that, it was totally the last thing he'd expected. Well, now he knew not to grab at Cas when he was pissed like that.

Dean found an empty lot just off the road outside of town where there was a street light. He pulled over and Cas immediately got out of the car. Dean hurried to get out after him.

"Cas, _what_ is your problem?"

Something had clearly snapped in him, because suddenly Cas went from looking nervous to being enraged. "_You_ are my problem!"

"You gotta tell me what's going on, because I don't know what I did to make you so mad."

Cas made a frustrated growling noise and grabbed at his hair. "Anything that isn't human is a _thing_ to you."

"Dude, that's not true! Come on, Benny was like a brother to me for a long time. And I kinda liked Meg sometimes. I've met some really nice ghosts…"

"That is not what I'm talking about. They were human at one time."

"Okay. So the problem here is that I'm not nice enough to animals?"

Cas made another frustrated noise, and then did the last thing Dean ever expected him to do. He reached back and pulled his gun out, and pointed it right at Dean. He put his hands up and took a step back.

"How long was I just a creature to you?"

Dean shook his head; Cas was starting to sound a little bit hysterical. "What, that's what this is about?"

"Yes! I have never been a human before Metatron stole my Grace, and then all of a sudden you're acting on these _feelings_ and telling me I'm _special_ to you. How long was I just a creature?"

Dean let his hands drop. He was starting to feel ill. Cas really didn't get it. "Can we put the gun away?"

Cas shook his head. "No."

"Okay. Yeah, when we first met, you weren't a human. But I figured that was normal because…well, you _weren't_ human. You were so much _more_, kinda alien like. And you were scary and intimidating. But I can pinpoint the exact moment when I started thinking of you as at least part human, even though I knew you weren't."

Dean took a deep breath. "It was when you and Uriel snatched me and got me to 'interrogate' Alistair. You remember what you told me?"

"Yes, I remember. I would give anything to not have to ask you to go into that room."

"Right. And then over the years you got more and more close to us, and you were my best friend. You're still my best friend. I try not to let myself have friends, you know that."

He sighed. "But the fact was, no matter how I felt about you, anything beyond being friends I buried. Way, way deep down. Because you weren't human. And even if you felt the same way, it wouldn't matter. Even if, by some miracle I managed to live to an old age, you would look the same as you do now. It would've just been impossible. And then suddenly it wasn't."

"I would have joined you in Heaven."

Cas finally lowered the gun and put it away and Dean sighed again, this time in relief. "I thought that maybe you had only started feeling as you do after I fell."

Dean took a few steps forward so he was in front of Cas. Praying that he wasn't going to pull the gun on him again, he put his arms around Cas's shoulders.

"I promise you, that wasn't the case."

Cas slumped against his chest and started shaking, so Dean lowered them both so they were kneeling on the blacktop. It was a long time before he stopped crying, and Dean held onto him and cried some with him.

"I love you, Cas. You get that, right?"

Cas's voice was shaky. "Yeah. I get it."

He pulled away and sat back on his heels, his eyes were red and his face was still wet. "Dean, I'm sorry…"

"Hey. We're cool, alright? I'm not gonna say that I get what you've been going through. But I know it's not easy on you."

Cas wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jacket. "Thank you."

He stood up, dusting off the knees of his pants. "Can we go back to the motel now?"

Dean tried to shift around to stand up, but it sent a shooting pain up his crotch. Where no shooting pain should ever go. "Uh. Mind giving me a hand here?"

Cas looked confused for a minute, then Dean could see it on his face as he worked it out. He held both hands out, and Dean was able to get up.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"You need to hit me, or something."

He turned around. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"I hurt you and I feel bad about it."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna hit you, dumbass. Get in the car."

He started the car and looked over at Cas. Who had the gall to look all pouty. He huffed, and slapped him on the back of his head. Not very hard, just enough to sting. "Ow!"

Dean pulled out onto the road. "Happy now?"

He glanced back over and Cas was actually smiling a little. "Yes. Thank you."

When they got back to the motel room, Sam was still working on his gizmo. "Alright. DEFCON five, you can relax."

Sam just 'hmm'ed at him. There were wires and little metal pieces all over the floor. It was still early in the evening, so Dean settled on the bed and tried to find something good on T.V. Cas sat next to him and pulled out the book Charlie had given him.

Cas was comfortably warm, and with the T.V in the background and Sam muttering to himself every so often, it wasn't too long until he felt his eyes getting heavy, and he was pulled into sleep.

xXxX

Cas had no idea about what to do.

He really had to use the bathroom. But Dean had fallen asleep, and his head had rested across his shoulder and onto his chest, and he could feel Dean breathing against his neck. He was peaceful in sleep. Cas couldn't find it in him to move and wake Dean up.

He had finished Charlie's book. It was very enjoyable, and he related to the main character in a way he had not expected. He too had been cast out from his family and made an exile. Now he was going to have to find the next book in the series.

"Success!" Sam whispered, having noticed a couple of hours ago that Dean was sleeping.

"Cas, I think it's working. I'm gonna go test it. Be right back."

He gave him a thumbs up to indicate that he had heard him. When Sam closed the door, Dean began to stir a little, and after a moment his eyes fluttered open.

"You're the best pillow ever."

"Thank you. Sam just went out to see if his device is working correctly."

Dean sat up and stretched. Cas used the opportunity to bounce off the bed and run into the bathroom. When he came back out, Dean was flipping through the channels.

"I ordered pizzas for supper. Figured none of us would really want to go out."

Cas took his spot back. "You would be correct."

Dean turned the T.V. off. "Nothing good's on."

"Okay."

There was a long, awkward silence. Cas wasn't sure what was wrong. Maybe it was because of their fight earlier? Dean was probably still angry with him. Or maybe it was something else…

Dean interrupted his thoughts. "You wanna make out?"

Well. That was unexpected. "What?"

Cas looked over and Dean had slid down on the bed so he was lying down instead of sitting, and he had this look on his face that Cas imagined was meant to be seductional, but came off as more comical.

"I know you've been down for a couple of weeks, and we haven't really done anything. And I've kinda missed it. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, though. I mean…"

He rolled his eyes. Dean got adorably chatty when he was a little nervous. He scooted some so he was at the same level as Dean, and he kissed him.

Dean had been right; it had been a while since they were in any way intimate, and it showed in the way that Dean almost immediately latched onto him and rolled them over so Cas was on his back.

It was intense, the kissing. Different in a way than it had been before. It almost felt like Dean was trying to convey forgiveness; that despite his recent behaviors, he still cherished him. And in another way, it felt like coming home. Like belonging.

It wasn't long before Dean moved on and was sucking places on his neck, and his hands were moving further down.

"Uh, Dean?" Cas was a little embarrassed at how breathless he sounded. Dean just hummed against his throat and he had to hold back a laugh because that tickled.

"What are you doing?"

Dean parted from his skin long enough to mutter, "It's a stress relief technique. Go with it."

He was dragging his hand over the bulge growing in Cas's pants infuriatingly slowly. He involuntarily rocked up into it before remembering what he was going to say.

"Pizzas will be coming…"

Dean broke away again. "Not before you do."

Cas couldn't help it this time and broke out into laughter. "Oh my God, that's horrible!"

He just huffed and kissed Cas again, now with enough force he thought Dean might be trying to suck his tongue out of his mouth. It didn't matter; Cas was still shaking with silent laughter. He broke away when it got hard to breathe and turned his attention to a spot just under Dean's ear that Cas had found he enjoyed being stimulated.

Dean had finally gotten around to opening Cas's pants and pulling them down enough to free his erection. He started backing down the bed, and nudged Cas's knees further apart. Cas moved where he was directed, and Dean's mouth was almost immediately on him.

He was very, very enthusiastic, and Cas found himself close to the edge of his climax almost embarrassingly quickly. He was pretty sure it was supposed to last longer than this.

"Dean…Ugh…Do you think maybe we could…God, I can't talk when you do that…"

He raised his head, making an absolutely sinful slurping noise as he did. "That's kinda the point, babe."

Cas took a deep breath; he was feeling lightheaded. "I am _so_ close."

"Again. Totally the point."

Dean winked at him and bent his head back down. It couldn't have been a full minute after that and Cas felt the bubbling, exploding pressure. The ceiling faded out of focus, and he felt like he was floating. Dean was doing something, but he wasn't sure what it was. Something warm. He started hearing his voice but the words were like the ceiling. Dean came into his view, and Cas made himself focus.

"Earth to Cas?"

"Huh?"

Dean grinned, looking annoyingly smug. "You kinda checked out there, man. Feeling okay?"

Cas smiled. "Feeling awesome."

He managed to push himself so he was sitting against the headboard again. Dean had cleaned him and pulled his pants back up for him. He sat on the side of the bed; they were close, their hips almost touching.

Cas grabbed Dean's shoulder and pulled him into another kiss, but a softer one. "What can I do for you, mon ange?"

Dean flushed some. "Oh. Don't worry about that. I, uh…I don't think I could get it up yet."

He must have been able to read confusion in Cas's face. "It'd probably hurt."

Cas looked down. "I'm really sorry about that."

"It's fine." He cleared his throat. "Uhm. I asked Benny what that meant. The 'mon ange' thing. He said it means 'my angel'."

He nodded. "Yes, it does. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Dean frowned. "What? No. I just…That's really something, coming from you. Because, you know…You were my angel first."

He smiled. "I suppose I was. I promise I will make this up to you later."

Dean grinned at him. "Next motel we stop at, Sammy has to get his own room."

They both leaned in at the same time and were kissing again when they heard a key click in the lock. Dean pulled away. "Speak of the devil…", he muttered.

He and Cas both realized what he'd said at the same time, and they cracked up with laughter.

Sam came in and looked confused. "What's so funny?"

For some reason, they only laughed harder and couldn't stop for several minutes.

xxXX

The next evening, just as it was starting to get dark, the three of them drove out to the rail yard. In most of the accounts Sam had gathered, the elephant had been buried out towards the edge of the yard, so the plan was to scan out and work their way in.

While Sam walked ahead and kept his eyes on the screen that would tell him if there was place where something was buried, Dean and Cas followed and were talking, too soft for him to hear. Not that he minded. He still had no idea what had caused the two of them to be infected with the giggles the night before, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to know.

It took a little over an hour to find the right spot, and mark the corners so they knew exactly where to dig. They'd all brought a shovel, but even with all three of them working, it still felt like it took forever until they reached the bottom.

Cas found it first. "There's some kind of fabric here."

They cleared most of the dirt away and pulled back a sheet of what felt like burlap. Underneath was an enormous skeleton. It was somber to look at; to imagine that a creature of this size and strength was killed in a horrible way. Definitely ghost material.

Cas had knelt down beside what would have been the back of the head. He reached out and touched the bone, just brushing it with his fingertips. "I am so, so sorry."

Dean walked over to him and squeezed his shoulder gently. "I hate to say it, but we gotta go on ahead and do this." Cas nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek as he stood up.

The hole was deep enough that Sam had to boost Cas and Dean up and then they pulled him up. They'd brought a lot of salt and kerosene, and the three of them walked around, making sure plenty of both got down on the bones.

"Okay guys, that should do it." Dean dusted off his hands and pulled a matchbook out of his pocket. He looked at Cas and then at Sam.

"Alright?"

Cas nodded and sniffled, and Sam noticed Dean was fiddling with the matchbook; he knew Dean didn't want to do something that was going to make Cas upset.

"Here. Give it to me."

Dean looked at him and nodded, handing it over. He stood next to Cas and rubbed his back.

Sam threw the fire down.


	6. Chapter 5: Acceptance

Chapter Five: Acceptance

Just before they left Erwin, Dean saw an article in the paper that pointed to a few werewolf attacks in, of all the depressingly ironic places, Madison, Wisconsin. So they headed north to check it out. Unfortunately, when they got there, it was to find out that the attackers were actually a nest of almost rabid vamps that liked to tear people apart and then eat their hearts.

That was a hard fight. Or at least that's what Cas and Sammy told him when he came to. He freaking missed about half of it after he got jumped from behind by one of the bastards who had a tire iron. Now Dean had a killer headache, bad enough that he let Sam drive so he could lay down on the backseat.

Their next stop was Napa, California. Cas had actually found this case; he'd borrowed Sam's computer and read about it on a news site. It was pretty weird, which by their standards was saying something. Three men had been found over the last week, with most of their hair chopped off and their eyes gouged out.

Dean was still hurting, but he was able to drive now. "Okay, so tell me, how is this our kind of case?"

Cas shrugged in the backseat. "It spoke to me."

Sam turned around. "It 'spoke' to you?"

"It feels unnatural. I know something's up."

Sam turned back around. "If there's nothing here, we at least have to go wine tasting."

Dean gagged. "Yeah, man, have fun with that." He parked at a motel.

The first thing they did was go to the Coroner's Office. Dean thought the coroner, Dr. Pfaster was kinda creepy; he was really, really excited about the bodies. He thought the dude might be one of those freaky fetishists. And he smelled weird. And he looked at Cas's ass more than once. He just didn't like the guy.

"This is all very interesting. You know, this place is pretty calm most of the time. We haven't had a good murder in a long time."

Sam shook his head. "What are the police thinking?"

"Oh, that these are the work of a serial killer! We've never had one of those here. Not that I know of."

The guy was almost _bouncing_. "So it definitely is just the one person?"

"Oh, yes. See?"

He had pulled the drapes back on all three bodies. They were big guys, one of them looked like a bodybuilder, another had a lot of old burns so he may have been a fire fighter, and the last guy had a 'Semper Fi' tattoo on his arm.

"Look, here at the eye sockets. Whoever did this, we can tell they used the same instrument on all three of the victims. And…and the ligature marks? On their necks and wrists, they found _fibers_ in them and they're all from the _same material_. Something organic. The forensics lab is identifying it now."

Dude was seriously creeping Dean out now. "Uh, can we have some alone time here? Do our investigation work?"

"Oh." He looked disappointed that he was being asked to leave his bodies. "Yes, of course. Take all the time you need."

Dean whistled as soon as he was gone. "Man. He and Death need to go out and get some McDonald's together sometime."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Guys, I think this is just a serial killer. I mean, nothing is pointing towards witchcraft, or anything we've seen before."

Cas had put on a pair of gloves and was looking through the first guy's hair. "Uh, Cas, what are you doing?"

"Looking."

Sam threw his hands up. "You're determined to find something on this. I'm telling you, there's nothing here."

Cas held his hand out, staring intently at the back of the guy's head. "Sammy, will you hand me those…uhm…pinchy picker-upers?"

Sam huffed and smacked it into his hand. "_Forceps_, Cas."

Dean laughed. "Or big ass tweezers."

Just after he said that, Dean realized what had just happened. Cas had called him 'Sammy', and Sam hadn't blown up about how only Dean could get away calling him that.

"What's up with you?"

Sam was looking at him. "You look all…shmoopy."

"Dude, that's not word. And I do not."

Cas had straightened up, with whatever he had found. "What's that?"

He dropped it into his hand and sniffed at it. "I believe it is a piece of a leaf from a grape vine."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We're in _Napa Valley_. Everything is grapes."

Cas just ignored him and looked in the hair some more. "Their hair was shorn with a knife. Hacked off, more likely."

He shook his head. "This is familiar. But I'm not sure from where."

Sam had his bitch face on, and Dean figured it may be time to go. "Hey, I don't think there's more to learn here. Why don't we get some lunch then go get the case files?"

xXxX

It was nagging Cas. He tried and tried to remember where he knew this from. It was like something he had seen long, long ago and his memory of it had gotten fuzzy around the edges. And Sam's attitude wasn't helping much. Cas wasn't sure what had put him in what Dean called a 'funk'.

"Hello. My name's Delilah, and I'll be your server today."

Cas snapped out of his head and looked up at the waitress. She was exceptionally pretty, with light blonde hair and large brown eyes. Sam, who was sitting across from him and Dean, was staring at her and his mouth had dropped open.

"What can I get for you?"

Dean got a bacon cheeseburger, Cas a grilled chicken sandwich, and Sam a steamed vegetable plate. Delilah wrote it all down and smiled cheerfully, then turned to go. As she turned, she dropped the order book, and kneeled down to pick it up. "Sorry about that. Clumsy hands!"

Sam's eyes followed her all the way back to the kitchen.

Dean leaned forward. "Dude! Seriously, you gotta try and tap that while we're here. She is smokin' hot."

Cas slapped him on the arm. "What was that for? I can't look?"

He shook his head. "You can look. If you touch, I'll cut your hand off."

Sam was still staring at the kitchen door. "Sam?"

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

Cas was starting to be concerned about him. "Yeah, fine."

Cas looked at Dean who was shaking his head and trying not to laugh.

The food came soon afterwards, and Delilah winked at Sam when she put his plate in front of him. He was still gawking at her.

Cas didn't like her. He had a bad feeling about all this. There was something very _wrong_ happening here, and it really bothered him that he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Babe, are you okay?"

Dean had gently tapped him with his elbow and leaned over. "It's not about the waitress thing, is it? 'Cause I was just kidding about that…"

He chuckled. "It's fine. I just can't shake this feeling off. I don't like it. Something bad is happening."

Dean put his hand on Cas's knee under the table. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out."

They ate mostly in silence after that, breakfast having been several hours earlier, and they were all hungry. Sam starting nervously fidgeting in his seat after he finished, and just as soon as Dean put the last fry in his mouth, he popped out of the chair with an "I'll get it!", and almost _ran_ to the register where Delilah was at.

When Sam could finally be pulled away from the counter, they went by the police station, and Dean told them to wait in the car while he ran in and got the case files they needed on the three men.

Cas leaned forward so he could talk to Sam. "Are you feeling well?"

Sam was jiggling his foot up and down, like a nervous tic. "What? Yeah, of course. Why?"

"You seem…On edge."

He just shook his head. "Nope. Fine."

Sam then took his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone, and Cas knew that was a clear dismissal. He'd have to ask Dean later.

He didn't take long, and Dean got back in the car with three file folders. "Alright, this is all they have on the guys. I'll drop you two off at the motel, and go check out the houses."

Sam jerked his head up. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

Dean pulled out on to the road. "However long it takes to sweep the places. Why? You got a hot date or something?"

He chuckled, like that was very unlikely, but Sam actually blushed a little and slumped some in his seat. Dean looked over at him.

"Seriously? Awesome! When do you need the car?"

"She gets off work at seven," Sam muttered.

"Alright. I'll try and have her back in time, man."

XxxX

It took almost no time to sweep the places. All these dudes had lived alone, all single. No EMF, the few people Dean talked to that lived near them said they were all real low key. Just never came home one day, then turned up dead. No one had heard or seen anything weird. He looked in all the usual places for hex bags.

Everything was more or less clean. Dean sighed as he got back in the car. It looked like Sam may be right and this was a bust. Just a crazy person killing people. Cas was going to be disappointed.

When he got back to the motel, Sam was, hand-to-God, _modeling_.

"Okay. What about this? Better or worse than the last one?"

Cas was sitting on the bed with a crap load of papers in front of him. "Uhm…The same?"

Sam huffed and went back in the bathroom.

Dean sat on the other bed. "How long has he been changing clothes?"

Cas glanced at his watch. "Half an hour."

He shook his head. "Well, all the places were clean. Nothing weird there. What've you got?"

Cas just shook his head, too, not moving his eyes from the papers. Dean sighed and moved to sit at the table where Sam had his computer set up.

After a few more minutes, Sam came back out with a completely different outfit on. "Okay. What about this one?"

Dean stood up. "Sammy, you look great."

"Really?"

He looked dorkily hopeful. "Yes. You are _awesome_, and all set to go out and get it on with waitress-chick. Now here, take care of her, you understand?"

Sam took the keys and grinned. "Yeah, thanks."

The door clicked behind him.

Dean stood in the middle of the room, and looked at Cas, still flipping through the files.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"You wanna take a break?"

"Why?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, Sammy's gonna be gone for a while, and…"

Cas didn't even look up. "There are _lives_ in danger here, Dean. I will not take a 'break' for the sake of your libido."

He just went back over to the computer, muttering "It was just a suggestion," under his breath.

Dean honestly started off looking at stuff for the case. He was looking into how exactly you'd get an eyeball out, which led to squicky videos on YouTube, which, _somehow_, he wasn't sure how, led to videos of kittens doing adorable shit almost an hour later.

He had it muted and the only sound was papers rustling, so when Cas suddenly said "Oh my God!", Dean nearly jumped out of his seat.

"What?"

"Dean, I know what this is. Look. Look at the names."

He pushed the paper into Dean's hands. "Paul Thomas Jr., Daniel Sammers, Sampson Philips. Okay?"

"Paul Thomas went by 'Sam', his middle name. All of these men had names with 'Sam' in them. And they were all strong, and the pictures of them before they were murdered show they all had long-ish hair."

Dean shook his head. "Okay?"

Cas rolled his eyes and went over and grabbed a book out of his bag, then flipped through it.

"I won't read the whole thing, just the relevant parts. 'Some time later, he fell in love with a woman in the Valley of Sorek whose name was Delilah. Having put him to sleep on her lap, she called a man to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him. Then the Philistines seized him, gouged out his eyes and took him down to Gaza. Binding him with bronze shackles, they set him to grinding in the prison.'"

He closed the book. "Sound familiar? Strong men, hair shorn, eyes gone, names suspiciously close to Samson?"

Dean sighed. "So whoever is doing this..."

"We know who is doing this! That waitress that Sam is with _right now_."

He stood up and started pacing. "But why? And how?"

"Dean, this is the actual Delilah. She was a witch, and I imagine she gains power this way, some spell using the hair and the eyes of strong men, sapping them of their strength until they die. And she is _extremely_ powerful, that's why she can change her appearance, and enchant people without needing hex bags."

He nodded. "Okay. So we need to find them. How do we do that?"

Cas fidgeted. "There's…It's an Enochian spell I know…"

"Great, what do you need, there's a Walgreens down the road."

He shook his head. "I don't know if I can still do Enochian spells. I haven't tried to do any of the rituals, or…"

"Hey." Dean grabbed him by the shoulders. "Look. Sam is in trouble. You try this, and we'll find them if it works. If not, we'll work something else out. Now, what do you need?"

Cas sighed. "Chalk, a marker, a bowl, rosemary, thyme, honey…" He paused, thinking. "Do you happen to have anything with Sam's blood on it?"

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Okay, his toothbrush will have to work. And I need a map of the city."

Dean nodded and rushed down to the store. He raced through, trying not to think about how long Sammy had been gone already, and how much longer it might take to get to him.

By the time Dean got back to the room, Cas had cleared off the table. He handed him the bag, and Cas started drawing sigils on the table, then unfolding the map. He looked at the hot pink Sharpie questioningly.

"It was the only one they had, man. What do you need?"

"The toothbrush. And a knife."

Cas was shifting back and forth when Dean came out of the bathroom. "Here you go."

"Thank you." He fiddled with the knife. "Dean, I am really sorry it took me so long to figure this out."

He pulled Cas into a hug. "Not your fault, babe. Let's just get to finding him."

Cas pulled away and nodded. He put the toothbrush in the bowl, and poured the herbs and the honey over it, chanting in Enochian. He cut a line down his palm, still chanting and let it flow into the mixture.

There was a pause and he picked up the Sharpie, holding it right over the middle of the map. Cas said something simple, and he drew a freakishly perfect circle. He repeated what he had said and drew another smaller circle inside the first. Cas said it a few more times until he sighed and capped the marker. There were three streets circled.

"That's as close as I think I can get. She's shielded it."

Dean nodded. "Well, the car will be there. We can find her, we can find Sammy."

XxxX

As Dean had suspected, the Impala was parked on the side of a street, in front of an apartment building.

"Okay. Now what?"

Dean shrugged. "Do you know another cool spell?"

Cas thought for a minute. "Do you have _anything_ of Sam's?"

He shook his head, then stopped. "Hey, the car!"

Cas threw his head back. "The car is not Sam's!"

Dean looked at him like he thought he was crazy. "No, but there's a spare key…"

He leaned down and reached under the car and pulled out a strip of duct tape, with a key stuck to it. Dean opened the trunk and rooted through it. "Here. This is his."

It was a shirt that had gotten too much blood on it, and they hadn't remembered to toss it yet.

Cas held it in his hands. The words came to him slowly now; when he had had his Grace, Enochian was instinctive. Now he had to remember, and think carefully. Enochian was an extremely powerful language; one syllable misplacement could have terrible consequences. Like accidently setting himself on fire.

But after a minute he was able to locate Sam. "This way."

They raced up four flights of steps, and Cas barreled into the apartment door before Dean could stop him. The pull of the spell was too strong, so he was being drawn to Sam like a magnet.

The witch had Sam strapped to a chair, tied at the wrists to the arms of the chair and his neck was tied to some kind of headrest. His hair had already been cut away, and Delilah was standing behind him with a knife.

She turned as Cas burst his way in, and made a serpentine hissing noise. She had dropped the attractive blonde look, now looking more like an animated and mummified corpse.

He vacantly heard Dean yell his name, but he was acting on instinct. A spell popped to the front of his mind, and he held both hands up and tossed the few words out.

Cas really wished his mind had provided him with what that spell did, because now they were all covered in dark purple…sticky goop.

He heard a spitting noise. "Cas? What the fuck?"

Turning around, he saw Dean was splattered, head to toe. "Gut feeling?"

"Yeah? Well, your 'gut feeling' can go…"

Cas wiped a blob that was getting near his eye. "Yeah, come bitch at me when you've exploded an over three million year old witch."

He walked over and picked the knife up and started cutting at the bindings. "I think these are grape vines she used."

"Huh." Cas glanced over at Dean, who was licking at his bottom lip. "She was made out of grape jelly."

"You are _disgusting_."

Cas looked at Sam, and Dean came over. "Sammy? How're you feeling?"

Sam leaned forward in the chair, rubbing at the angry line across his throat. "Ugh. I think she drugged me in the diner, because I don't remember much after that. I came to in here, and she said she was sacrificing me to make her more powerful. It got a little hazy again, then there was this pop."

He looked down at himself. "Cas, what did you do?"

Dean answered for him. "He remembers some Enochian spells. He wasn't sure if they would still work, but I think it's pretty obvious now that they can."

He was starting to feel sick. "Those spells take up a lot of energy."

Sam looked up at him. "Yeah man, you look pale."

He frowned and moved his head around again. "Something's different."

Cas had leaned into Dean for a little support, but he was able to step on his foot.

"Sam, it was Delilah. Remember the other victims, how they were…"

His hands flew to his head. "My hair…Oh my God!"

Sam jumped up and ran over to a connected bathroom where there was a mirror. "Oh my God! My _hair!_"

Cas eyed the chair and sat down quickly. "Babe, are you okay?"

He looked up, and Dean was looking truly concerned. Cas smiled. "The Enochian spells take up energy. With my Grace, the energy was almost limitless. As a human, it's different. And the energy used with different spells varies. Locating a person is simple. Exploding someone is another matter."

"Okay, well, just sit put while Sam has his crisis, and we'll go. Just…Don't explode anyone else."

xxXX

Sam had had to put up with a lot of ill-disguised giggles before he socked Dean in the arm and made him go find some toboggans. His hair…_His hair_…Had been butchered. It was all choppy and weird, and the only way to get it evened out would be to shave his head. Which…Just, no.

And now his head, and his neck, even his damn ears were freezing now. So Dean gleefully went out and returned with toboggans, a few in normal colors, one a bright orange, and a hot pink one with _fucking sparkles _and _stars_. He knew his brother was trying to make him feel better, but still. No.

Dean was now out getting them all breakfast before they checked out of the room, and Sam had shoved a red hat on, and was grateful that almost none of his hair showed, and it covered his ears.

He was busy packing up all his things; for some reason Dean had gotten him new toothbrush, God only knew what happened to the last one. Cas was at the table, using one of the motel's washcloths to get the last of the chalk drawings off of it.

"Uhm…Hey, Cas?"

"Yes Sam." He didn't look up.

"I owe you an apology. You knew something was up, and I kept shooting you down. And, well, obviously you were right. So, I'm sorry."

Cas turned away from the table and sat on one of the chairs. "There is nothing to apologize for." He hesitated. "But…even before we came here, you have been acting odd. If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, I understand, but please know I will do what I can to help."

Sam sat on the edge of his bed. "You probably still don't pay much attention to dates, do you?"

He shrugged. "I've never really had to in the past."

"Well, today is November the second."

"Oh." Cas looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam."

He shrugged. "With Dean, it's not so much a big deal anymore around this time. But, you know, with Jess…I guess it still hits me really hard some years."

Cas was quiet for a few minutes and Sam went on packing.

"Palo Alto isn't very far."

Sam turned and looked at Cas. "What?"

"It's just a suggestion."

He was kind of surprised. Cas was turning more human than he had realized. "I'll think about it."

After Dean got back with their food and they did a double check that everything had been packed up, they loaded the trunk. Cas had already opened the back passenger door, but Sam stopped him. "Hey, sit up front for a change."

If Cas was surprised, he didn't show it, just opened up the other door. Dean gave him a questioning look in the rearview mirror but he didn't ask.

They were almost out of Napa when Sam made up his mind. "Hey, Dean."

"What's up?"

He hesitated for a second, but really, it was long overdue. "We're going to Palo Alto."

"Oh. We are, are we?"

He heard a smack and Dean making an 'oof' noise. As near as he could tell, Cas had hit him in the chest.

"You heard the man. Palo Alto."

Dean glared between the two of them, and got on the road heading westward, towards the coast.

"Treason and mutiny. I hate you both."

XxxX

They were saved from a heavy, uncomfortable silence because Dean had turned the radio up pretty loud. He knew what was going on; Sammy needed to go to Jess's grave. He still didn't really understand the point of talking to a _rock_, but…Sam was into it.

The closer and closer they got to Stanford, the more and more tension Dean could feel leaking from the backseat. He looked back at Sam, checking on him about every fifteen minutes, and he was just sort of staring out the window. Dean knew they were getting into territory that he would remember. Old hangout spots, stuff like that.

It was nearing sundown when they pulled up to the cemetery where Jess was buried. Dean couldn't remember exactly where she was, but after a couple of minutes he heard Sam. "Here, Dean. Stop."

He put the car in park and turned her off. Sam fidgeted in the backseat. "Cas?"

"Yes?" Cas turned around so he could see him.

"If someone's in Heaven, can they hear you? You know, talking at their grave."

He hesitated. "From what I've been told, it's only if you had a strong bond. It's almost the way I used to hear prayers; sort of a whispering in their ear."

Sam nodded. "Good. Okay. Uhm…Can you guys wait here?"

Dean nodded. "Take your time, little brother."

He got out and disappeared into the maze of graves. Dean looked over at Cas.

"Is what you just said true?"

"I don't know. It very well might be. I didn't speak to very many souls in Heaven."

Dean reached over and grabbed his hand. "Well, thanks for telling him that."

Cas squeezed back. "I _am_ getting the hang of these things, you know."

"I noticed." He looked around. "Hey. We are all alone, and Sammy's gonna be gone awhile. You wanna…" Dean motioned to the backseat.

Cas looked at him like he had just killed a bunny, or something. "Dean, we are in a _graveyard_. For God's sakes…"

Dean laughed. "I was joking. Jeeze."

Something popped up in his mind that he'd been meaning to ask. "Hey. Why'd that lady explode into jelly?"

"Delilah? I thought I'd already explained this."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't think you did."

Cas moved so he was a little closer to Dean. "Grapes. She got her powers from an ancient pagan God, I don't even remember his name, but he resided over plants, specifically grapes. Living as long as she did, and as powerful as she was, she wasn't human anymore. Delilah basically gave her soul and her body over to the God. What fueled her besides the sacrifices was that she needed to be somewhere that was plentiful in grapes."

"Napa Valley is wine country."

Cas nodded. "And when she was still human, she lived in the Valley of Sorek."

Dean shook his head. "No idea."

"It is an area where there have been grape vines growing since…Well, almost forever."

"So…She was literally _made _of grapes?"

He nodded again. "Yes. Exactly."

Dean sighed. "Well. That's definitely one for the journal. Weird times, man."

They sat in silence for a while, and it was starting to get dusky out.

"You called him 'Sammy'."

Cas looked at him, confused for a few moments. "Oh. At the morgue. I suppose I did. Habit of listening to you calling him that all the time."

"He didn't bitch at you about it."

Cas still looked confused. "I'm not getting your point."

"You're family."

He nodded. "Yeah, you've been telling me that for a while."

Dean shook his head and chuckled. "It just…makes me happy, okay?"

"Okay."

He looked over at Cas; he was smiling at Dean. They both leaned in at the same time, and Dean couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him like this. Probably when he was with Lisa.

Cas hadn't said it with words yet, but the sweet way he was kissing Dean, and the way Cas was grabbing and tugging at his jacket to get him closer said it enough. Dean didn't need it in words. Cas was saying 'I love you', loud and clear.

Making out in the front seat was _hard_, and not in the cool way. Cas ended up kneeling on both knees in the middle of the bench seat, and Dean had turned around as far as he could, but there were things in the way, and he was pretty sure that he'd have bruises on his knees later.

Totally worth it, though.

Cas broke away and latched onto his neck, sucking at a spot under his ear, hard enough that Dean knew there was gonna be a hickey later.

"Hey, I thought this was some kind of blasphemous behavior."

Cas leaned back to look at him. "Blasphemy seems to be my middle name."

Dean managed to breathe out a weak laugh as Cas tried to get a little bit closer, and he somehow weaseled his hands up the back of Dean's shirts.

"You have the most marvelous skin, you know that?"

"Uhh…" Cas had started back on his neck again. "I don't think I've heard that one before."

He had to hold back a laugh because Cas hummed and it tickled.

That was when the backdoor opened. Cas squawked and almost fell into the floor of the car, and Dean jumped so far that he hit his knee hard enough that everything below it went numb.

Sam climbed in and shut the door. His face and eyes were red, but it looked like maybe a weight had been lifted off of him.

"You guys are gross."

Dean glanced over at Cas who looked like he was torn between laughing and being embarrassed.

"Your face is…gross."

He started the car and they got going. Dean drove through the night, Sam stretching out on the backseat and asleep by midnight, and Cas drifting off against the window around three.

There was no way Dean was going to sleep. Not on this night. And not with his angel so close by.

xxXX

They had a week of no hunting after that. Sam had an eye out on news sites and papers, and Garth had them on speed dial, but for a week it was quiet.

Dean found an empty abandoned lot and finally got around to teaching Cas how to drive. He took to it pretty well. He thought so, anyway, but for the first twenty minutes or so Dean was clutching at the door handle hard enough that Cas thought he might break it.

Cas got the next few books in the series that Charlie had gotten him hooked on, and he spent a good bit of time in the garden, reading or drawing. It was cold out, colder than he had experienced so far, but it was sunny, and he just bundled up. Sam told him he looked like an Eskimo.

Sam invested himself in trying to make a map of the bunker. Cas had managed to glance at it a few times. While Sam did have many enviable skills, cartography was not one of them. Nothing was to scale, and the dimensions were all wrong. What he had made so far technically defied the laws of physics. But Cas knew that if he offered creative criticism, Sam was likely to make a 'bitch face'. So he kept his mouth shut.

After several attempts, many of them utter failures, Dean managed to cook some of the recipes that Benny had left. Benny himself had called Dean a couple of days after they'd gotten back home.

He had settled himself in New Orleans. And he had caught three relatively newly turned vampires trying to raid a blood bank. They had almost walked into an area where they would have been caught. Benny had helped them; they had all belonged to the same nest, and had left because they didn't want to drink from humans.

Benny had found what he hadn't had his previous time back from Purgatory. A purpose. He became a mentor to these wayward vampires, and was helping them adjust. Dean sounded very happy and proud while he was speaking with him. Cas was happy, too. Benny had saved him once again, and he wanted Benny to have a good…well, not life. Existence. A good existence.

Then, one day, as Dean would say, the other shoe dropped.

They were all in the library, looking at a very, very old text that Sam had found, that described some kind of ritual. Cas was trying to translate it; whoever had written it had had terrible handwriting, when something happened that had never happened before.

There were three great booming knocks at the door. They all looked at each other and then went to the bottom of the staircase, where there was still a duffle bag packed with guns that they hadn't unloaded yet.

"It can't be a demon; I checked that door and it's solid iron," Sam whispered and Dean nodded.

"Garth or Charlie would have called first."

Whoever it was knocked again.

"Maybe someone's lost and saw the car?"

Sam and Dean both gave him a Look. Dean started creeping up the stairs, motioning to the other two to cover him. Just as he got to the door, there was another knock, this time accompanied by a woman's voice.

"Uhm…Hello? Maybe I got this wrong, but I'm looking for Castiel."

Dean looked down at him and Cas shrugged; the voice was not familiar.

"What do you want with him?"

There was a moment of silence. "I need to speak with him. And the Winchesters. I have a message."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who just shrugged. He put the handgun in the waistband of his pants and yanked the door open and pulled the woman in quickly.

"Who are you?"

She was very short, with curly black hair and light brown eyes. More importantly, she was all swelled up like a balloon, around seven or eight months pregnant. She looked around and saw Cas, and she smiled at him.

"You would have known me as Sara. But my name is Lizzy now."

"Oh…"

Dean walked closer to him. "Cas, who is this?"

"She's…_was_ an angel. She used to be in my old garrison, but she got wounded during a battle and they reassigned her to work somewhere in Heaven."

Sam made no move to put his gun away. "So you're the last one. The last of the angels that fell who remembered who they were."

Lizzy raised her hands. "I had nothing to do with Ruth, and her plans. Honestly, I had considered taking my Grace out and falling, months before we were ejected. Heaven was a _war zone_. All I wanted was peace."

She glanced over at Cas. "Brother, I don't blame you for that. With Raphael in command, it would have been worse. I would have rather had the chaos than the Apocalypse."

She faced Sam again. "After I woke up, I had minimal injuries, but I was in the hospital. My…Vessel, she was married and her husband was there. It…" Lizzy smiled. "It was like seeing for the first time after living in the dark."

She rubbed her belly. "Everything was perfect. Then I heard the chatter. Ruth had turned everyone into a boiling rage, and she was trying to get me to join them, but I refused and turned the signal off. When I felt them die, I'm ashamed to say I was a little relieved."

Sam looked at Dean and Cas, and Cas nodded. All the guns were put away. Lizzy sighed. Dean led them all towards the kitchen, where they could sit down.

"So, how did you know where we were?"

"It came to me in a dream."

Sam was skeptical. "A _dream_."

"Yes. Almost a week ago. I was asleep, and then these numbers kept flashing in front of my eyes, and then a voice said 'Your Brother Castiel and the Winchesters must go to Wilmington, North Carolina'. I woke up and jotted the numbers down and looked them up. They were coordinates for this bunker."

Sam frowned. "Did you recognize the voice, Lizzy?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. It sounded like hundreds of voices, whispering in unison. It was actually very pretty, but I have no idea who it was. They clearly wanted me to find you."

Dean leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "I don't think I need to tell you this, but this is kinda our secret lair…"

"Oh, oh no, I won't tell a soul. I didn't even tell Tommy what state I was going to."

"So the hubby was cool with you driving cross-country, not telling him where you were going, and with you ready to pop?"

Lizzy smiled. "We live in Chicago, so it was hardly cross-country. And the little one here won't be coming for two more months. I just told him it was angel business."

Sam looked surprised. "He knows? How much did you tell him?"

"That I was an angel. That we had all been expelled from Heaven, and that I was one of a very lucky few who could remember what I was and had some remaining powers. He was skeptical for a long time, but when I telekinetically picked up the refrigerator, you should have seen the look on his face!"

She chuckled absently.

Cas finally spoke. "Lizzy, do you know what's happening in Wilmington?"

She looked at him sadly. "I wish I knew, Brother. I…I have not quite mastered the device, but I tried to look it up on the Google…"

Cas kicked Sam under the table; he _knew_ he was about to laugh.

"…but I had no luck."

He nodded. "We'll look into it, Sister. Thank you."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome."

Lizzy looked around the table. "Thank you all for listening to the message. I hope something good will come from it." She stood.

"I should be on my way back home. Good luck."

Cas stood, too. "Do you want to stay here for the night? There are plenty of extra rooms."

Lizzy shook her head. "No. There are hours of daylight left."

"I'll walk you out to your car, then."

They were out of the bunker, and Lizzy smiled at him. "Cas, I am more than pleased that we have both found happiness here. You have a family, and I am…"

She touched her stomach with reverence. "Isn't it amazing, Cas? I am growing a human, a human that will have a soul and a will of its own. In the garrison, I mostly paid attention to the animals, and the plants, and the earth. Humans never interested me as much as they did you. And now I am _growing_ one."

"Do you know what it is? A boy or a girl?"

She patted it. "Tommy and I want it to be a surprise."

Cas dug in his pockets and found a pen and an old gas receipt.

"This is my phone number. I would like the two of us to stay in touch."

She took the paper and leaned forward to hug him. It was very awkward, with the baby in the way.

"Thank you, Cas. I want that, too."

She smiled. "All of this…It happened because of you. Your actions have brought me a happiness I never imagined possible."

Lizzy patted the side of his face. "I wish you the best of fortunes, Brother."

Cas wasn't able to hold back the single tear that trailed down his face. "And I you, Sister."

Cas waved Lizzy goodbye, and didn't stop until she rounded a corner, and she was gone. But not for forever. Cas knew they'd see each other again soon.

XxxX

Just after Cas went outside with Lizzy, Sam started pulling up the usual websites, looking for whatever weirdness might be going on in Wilmington. He didn't find anything, though, other than a couple of robberies and an old man dying from pneumonia.

He dug deeper, going into less conventional territory. Two alien sightings, and a few people claiming to have seen the ghost of Davy Jones. The Monkee, not the pirate. Sam sighed; it looked like this was a bust.

But _how_ could Lizzy have known about the bunker?

Sam tapped a _little_ bit deeper. Like, maybe he found his way into the New Hanover County Sheriff's Department server. There was something going on, something they were keeping out of any papers. Sam tried to work his way into the files on the twelve 'highly suspicious' incidents, but they were sealed up real tight. He was still working on it when Cas came back in and he could hear him and Dean talking distantly in another room. He didn't pay them any attention; he was concentrating.

After almost an hour of frustrating _nothingness_, Sam gave up on it. He shut his computer, and went to the T.V room, where Dean and Cas were likely to be. They were watching 'Raiders of the Lost Arc', and Cas was helpfully pointing out every historical inaccuracy.

Dean paused it, looking relieved. "Hey. What did you find?"

Sam dropped into the armchair. "Twelve very secretive files, and they aren't releasing any info about them out to the public."

"Did you find out anything about them?"

He shook his head. "No. But if they're keeping whatever's going on this secret, I'd say it's probably gonna be our kinda thing. And it's gonna be something big."

Dean unpaused the movie. "Alright. We'll leave in the morning."

XxXx

The next day was an early start and bacon sandwiches for breakfast before they hit the road. Sam called Garth to warn him that he would probably be getting a call from the Sheriff's office.

"Seriously? It's wrapped up that much?"

"Yeah, so they're definitely going to want to speak to our 'superiors'."

"Okay, hombre, I gotcha covered. Hey, where're you guys going?"

Sam should have known better, but he told Garth and was treated to a long, _long_ speech about a Civil War battle that took place there. It took him almost twenty minutes to get rid of the nut.

"God, that man can _talk_."

Next, he called the Sheriff's Department. And sure enough, they wanted their deputy director's name and number. After being put on hold, Sam finally got to talk to Sheriff Alexander.

"Well, no one called the F.B.I in on this, but really, I'm glad you're coming down. This case…ain't nobody seen anything like this. When are you gonna get here?"

"Let me check," Sam said and covered the mic on the phone.

"Dean, when will we get to Wilmington?"

He looked up at the roof and mouthed numbers for a minute. "The very latest…Three days."

Sam uncovered the phone. "We'll be there by Thursday."

The man sighed. "Alright. I'll let the girls at the front know, and they'll keep an out for you."

"Okay, thank you."

"Y'all have a good day."

The rest of the drive that day was pretty quiet. When they stopped to get gas, Dean made Sam sit in the backseat, because Cas, who was cold natured even in the summer, was freezing. So Dean got him closer to the heat vents. Sam was too big for the backseat, but he wasn't going to complain. It meant he could put on his headphones and totally ignore Dean's out of tune 'singing'.

When Dean got to the point where he was almost falling asleep, they found a motel near Danville, on the Illinois/Indiana state line. Sam went to check them in, and they got in their room, which was all decorated in corn and yellow colors. Dean was just awake enough to stick his tongue out at it before collapsing on one of the beds. Cas and Sam stayed up a little while longer, but riding was almost as tiring as driving was, so Sam climbed into his own bed, and Cas settled in next to Dean.

Sam was up first, so he went and picked up coffees and breakfast for all of them. By the time he got back, Cas was sitting at the table and he could hear the shower running.

They were back on the road within the hour, and Dean let Sam drive for a while. At least until they got to the Appalachians.

"Hell no. These roads are curvy and you'd shoot us off one of the mountains."

"Dean, I've driven through here before."

"Not with me in the car you haven't."

Sam just rolled his eyes and gave the wheel back over to Dean. The thing about mountain roads is that when you're driving, you're so focused on the road you don't notice how curvy it really is. Riding in the car is a different story. Sam could feel his stomach churning. Cas obviously didn't feel the same way. He was in the backseat again, and practically had his nose pressed against the window, watching the scenery and the fall colors.

The ride that day felt like it took forever. It was just nearing dusk when Dean had clearly had enough of the twists and turns and found them a motel near a town called Bluefield, not too far from the West Virginia/Virginia state line. It was pretty ratty, even for them, but in this part of the country they weren't likely to find much better.

Dean went in the office, and when he came out he had two keys.

"Congrats, Sammy! You got a room all to yourself."

xxXX

Dean wasn't gonna bother doing anything more than tossing his duffle bag on to the table before more or less tackling Cas and tossing him on the bed. They had basically gotten used enough to doing this that the clothes practically went flying off, and it seemed like no time at all before they were under the covers, kissing and touching wherever they could.

After a little while, Dean had pulled away and thumped his head on the pillow while Cas was kissing around his tattoo. He had no idea that was a thing that was going to feel good, but there you go. Dean had been working up to asking Cas something, and since this was probably going to be the last 'alone time' they would have for a while, he figured this was a good opportunity.

"Hey, babe?"

Cas lifted up, leaning on his elbow. "Yeah?"

"You…Uh, are you up to trying something new?"

Oh, Lord, there went the squinty-eyed-head-tilt.

"What are you suggesting?"

Dean moved to sit up, and Cas pulled away. "It's…uhm. Well, a couple of chicks have wanted to do it with me. And, it didn't exactly work out the way I've heard it's supposed to, but I thought it might be cool if we tried it."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about."

He hesitated, then got up and went over to his bag and fished around for a minute before hopping back in the bed with the bottle of lube.

"It's this finger…thing."

Dean made some vague hand movements that he hoped would get his point across. Thankfully, Cas looked like he understood.

"Oh, I think I know what you mean."

He looked proud of himself. "I've watched humans' sexual techniques evolve over many years."

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed the bottle towards him. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Blah blah celestial creeper blah."

Cas laughed. "What was it about your previous partners that made it unenjoyable?"

He frowned up at the ceiling. "It was just…awkward. The pressure was just too much, and, I dunno it just wasn't working."

Cas didn't say anything, he just moved around on the bed and got so he was kneeling in between Dean's legs and leaning over him. He rubbed his nose up against Dean's. "I'll do what I can, mon ange."

He sat back up, and Dean set his legs further apart and bent his knees to get his hips up. Despite what he had just said, Cas looked more than a little bit nervous.

"Hey. I trust you. You know that, right?"

Cas smiled and nodded. "I know."

He nodded again, like he was reassuring himself, and popped the cap of the bottle open, and squeezed some out into his hand. Cas scrunched his nose up a little. "It's cold."

"It's fine, babe. Go on ahead."

Cas looked doubtful, but started to rub it across his hand and over his fingers. Dean had his eyes firmly planted on the ceiling now. He was kinda getting nervous about this, and was trying to keep his breathing as steady as he could. He felt Cas touching him, rubbing circles around his hole. He was being _so_ gentle.

And then there was the first finger in, it felt like Cas only went up to the second knuckle, but it was still just a weird pressure.

"Dean?"

He hadn't realized, but he'd closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. He lifted his head up; Cas looked worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Keep going."

Cas pushed his finger in further, making him stretch, and he moved it around some. The pressure wasn't as bad as it had been before, and Dean started relaxing just a little bit. But it was still kinda weird. Besides knowing that it was _Cas_ doing this, there wasn't much sexiness going on.

Cas added a second finger after a couple of minutes, and Dean stiffened back up, but it went the same as before. Cas was taking the time to let Dean get used to the uncomfortableness. He was making a scissoring motion, then what felt like a crooking move, and all of a sudden, Dean _really_ got why this was a thing. It was like getting hit by lightning, but in a really awesome way.

Cas didn't take his hand away, but he moved a little so he was in Dean's field of vision. "I think sometimes you forget. I rebuilt you from the inside out, cell by cell. I _know_ you, Dean."

And okay, that totally wasn't the hottest fucking thing he'd ever heard.

He leaned back and rubbed up on that spot again, and Dean was only a little bit embarrassed to say he yelped like a kicked dog. Cas was laughing, the bastard. He wasn't bothering to watch his breathing now, and he lifted his head up.

"You're _killing_ me."

"What? How?"

He did the thing again, and Dean grabbed a hold of his pillow and groaned.

He closed his eyes again; this was way more intense than he thought it would be. Cas was moving, doing something. He'd gotten some lube on the other hand and starting stroking up and down his dick, still hitting the spot inside every so often. Dean was reaching the point where he was close to losing control within a few minutes. He knew he was blabbering and groaning loudly, and God only knew what he was saying. There were stars behind his eyes, a huge overwhelming squeeze in his balls, and he was _gone_.

It took what felt like a few minutes to get the energy to blink his eyes back open. Dean heard water turn off, and Cas came out of the bathroom with some wet washcloths. He actually looked kinda shy. Cas got back on the bed, and held out one of the cloths.

"Uhm…Would you be more comfortable doing this, or…"

"Dude. I can't _move_ right now."

Cas smiled a little, and started wiping him off. Dean closed his eyes again so he could just bask. After a little while Cas got back up, moved around the room some, and then he was back in the bed, lying close to Dean, but not next to him. He didn't bother opening his eyes. He was basking.

"You're acting weird, Cas."

He felt Cas huff. "How so?"

Dean knew he was about a minute away from falling asleep, so he forced his eyes open.

"You're being all…shy and…weird."

He wasn't feeling coherent. So sue him.

Cas got closer to him and pulled the covers back up over them. He pushed an arm under Dean's neck and pushed up so he was leaning over him. He put his other hand on Dean's chest.

"I don't want to disappoint you."

Dean resisted rolling his eyes. "Seriously? Did you just miss me coming my brains out?"

Cas smiled and looked down. "No. I didn't miss that."

He reached up and pulled Cas down so he could kiss him. "That, what just happened, was awesome. That gained you five million brownie points. You _own_ me now."

Now he had Cas laughing. "I'll need to get that notarized."

He kissed Dean just next to his nose, then wiggled around a little so he was laying his head on Dean's chest and he sighed.

"Hey. Don't go falling asleep. You give me a few more minutes so I get the feeling back in my legs, and I'm gonna rock your world."

Cas had the nerve to snort lightly. "Really, Dean. It's okay, I know you're tired. I'm tired, too."

Dean stared down at his head for a second. "You got off on it, didn't you?"

Cas's head shot back up. "What?"

"You did! I got you all hot and bothered, didn't I? I was just too blitzed out to notice. You jacked off in the bathroom, right?"

Cas was bright red now and he slapped his hand on Dean's chest. "Shut up."

Dean pumped his fist.

"Ugh." Cas buried his face back down, his forehead pressed against Dean's breastbone. Dean brushed his fingers through Cas's hair, sticking up a little from sweat.

"Hey."

Cas picked his head up, and Dean kept petting through his hair. "Love you, Cas."

He smiled and brought a hand up and brushed over one of Dean's eyebrows with his thumb. "I'm pretty sure I love you, too."

Dean could have sworn his heart stopped for a minute and everything was getting a little blurry. He could feel Cas's hand moving over his cheekbones. "Why are you crying?"

"Happy tears, Cas."

He still had his hand in Cas's hair, so he pulled him down and Dean couldn't get enough of him. This was the missing piece, finally in place. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy, or this free. Cas was _it_.

After a few minutes, Dean gently flipped them over and he moved so he was lying in between Cas's legs. It was slower this time. Cas held around Dean's shoulders, rubbing up and down his back. He took the time to kiss over Dean's freckles and his eyelids.

Dean took time, too. To nose through Cas's hair and breathe in the coconut/sweat combo that never failed to turn him on. To bite at his ear, which never failed to turn _Cas_ on.

They built it up, so that when they started grinding against each other, it wasn't rushed. And if Dean had thought he'd come hard earlier…Well, now he knew it could be even better.

They lay side by side on the bed, both a little out of breath and all kinds of sweaty and sticky. Dean managed to reach over and grabbed Cas's hand, squeezing it.

"That…That was pretty awesome."

Cas breathed out a laugh. "You keep saying that."

There was a tapping at the wall and they both froze.

"Okay. I'm really supportive and shit. _Really_. And I'm all for the power of love, yadda yadda yadda. But these walls are thin, and I have noises in my head that I'll never be able to get out, even if I poured bleach in my ears. And I'd like to get some sleep. So, _please_, don't get all geared up for round three. Just…Go to sleep."

They turned their heads to look at each other. "Sorry Sammy."

They'd both said it at the same time and broke out into laughter. They heard a thump, probably Sam tossing something at the wall and him saying, "For fuck's sakes…"

Dean and Cas both curled into each other, ending up in a sideways hug, still laughing almost five minutes later. And that's how they faded off to sleep.

XxxX

They arrived in Wilmington in the early afternoon, and Dean decided that they should go on and go by the Sheriff's Office and go over all the case files that evening, then they could go do all their investigating the next day. He had a feeling it might take a while.

He parked and pulled three FBI badges out. They weren't bothering with the Fed suits on this one; if they were going to be doing as much leg work that Dean was afraid they might be doing, it'd be more comfortable in normal clothes. Plus, if this thing was as hush-hush as Sam said it was, then people didn't need to know Feds were going around. Fake Feds. Whatever.

"Okay. I'm Agent Jones," he tossed one to Sam. "You're Steward," and he tossed one to Cas, "And you're Wyman."

Sam frowned at his. "Who?"

Dean huffed and closed the trunk. "Original Stones members, keep up, Sammy."

They went into the building, and there was a secretary sitting behind a low wood desk. "Hello. How may I help you?"

"We're with the FBI…"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, of course! Sheriff Alexander told me to be expecting you. Let me go get him real quick."

They didn't have to wait long. The Sheriff was a short dude, and kinda older. "Am I glad to see you guys. Katy, will you go get those copies of all the files?"

The secretary left and went into a locked office.

"We haven't even guessed as to how to start on this case. I'm happy to have it out of my hands."

He held his hands up. "No offense. It's just…This is a peaceful place. We don't have much normal crime, and I ain't never seen…"

He rubbed his head. "This has been giving me nightmares. Wife's worried sick."

Katy came out with a huge stack of files and set them on her desk. "If you wanna follow me. Our Coroner is just across the street. When you're done there, you can come back for these."

Dean looked at Sam as they followed him over to a stone building. He just shrugged. The Sheriff was _really _eager to hand over the case. Dean was getting a little bit nervous about this. Whatever was going on was heavy shit.

"Dr. Soong. These are the FBI agents….Sorry, I didn't even get y'alls names."

They took out the badges. "Agents Jones, Steward, and Wyman."

"This is our Chief Coroner, Dr. Soong. I'll…Uh, let you guys get on with it, and just come back and Katy'll give you those files."

He practically _ran_ out the door. Dr. Soong chuckled lightly. "The Sheriff is a good man. But he is very superstitious."

Sam looked at him. "Superstitious?"

He sighed. "You'll see."

Dr. Soong led them down a hallway. "Of course, normally we would keep the deceased in refrigerated units to slow decomp. But, it would be very difficult to get these victims into a unit in their shape. Also, their bodies are not decomposing, at least not that we can tell."

He stopped in front of a door and swiped a key card, and he opened the door. "Welcome to the Freak Show, gentlemen."

There were twelve bodies, seven men and five women. They were in various poses, all kneeling, some leaning back on both ankles some on only one knee. They all had some kind of markings, but they were different from person to person. The only other thing they had in common was that either their hands and faces were raised up or their heads were bowed and their hands were about an inch from their faces, as if they were crying. And all twelve of them had their eyes burned out.

Dr. Soong walked further into the room. "They were all found this way. We can't move them from these positions, and trust me, we've tried. Basically, they're stone. Even their clothing and hair is the same way."

Dean and Sam were still near the door, just staring. What in the hell could have possibly done this? Why the fuck would they?

Cas had gone and started looking. "Dr. Soong? Have you noticed this?"

"What?"

Cas was leaning over one of the men and _sniffing_ him. Gross.

Dr. Soong frowned. "Flowers?"

Cas nodded. "These are all marks of the Stigmata."

Dean had no idea what a Stigmata was, but Sam shook his head.

"Stigmatics are phonies. Religious extremists who self-inflict the wounds to themselves."

Cas just gave him a Look that clearly said that he couldn't say what he wanted to in front of the Doc, but was Sam _seriously_ arguing with him on a religious matter?

"_True_ Stigmatics are rare. But there have been plenty of documented occurrences. And I'm not saying _these_ people were Stigmatics, just that they have the markings."

Dean shook his head. "Okay. I'm seriously confused. What the hell is a Stigmata?"

Cas pointed at one of the women. "The marks of Jesus's crucifixion. Here on the back…"

Dean and Sam finally moved away from the door and looked at what Cas was seeing. "She looks like she was whipped."

He nodded. "Christ was flayed. Then…."

Cas moved over to one of the men. He had deep scratches on his forehead and all the way across the back of his head. Sam nodded. "The Crown of Thorns."

Cas pointed at another man who had his hands raised. "Nails driven through his hands…"

He moved to the next in the line. "…and his feet."

Cas walked to another woman. "Then, to make sure Christ was truly dead, he was cut with a spear." There was a long cut on the woman's side.

"Stigmatics have reportedly had a distinctive odor around them, that floral smell. Also, they decompose at a much slower rate than is natural."

Cas sighed. "As for the eyes being burned out…"

He looked at Sam and Dean. "I have no idea what the significance of that is. Or their petrification."

XXxx

They grabbed the huge stack of files and checked into a motel. Sam shook his head just looking at the pile. "Guys, how're we gonna do this? Should we just take four, or…"

Dean grabbed some and started looking through. "Man, these are spread out all over the city. It might just be faster if we stick together and take the car. I mean, come on, this one place is way out there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Okay, well, let's see what we can see."

The three of them sat in the floor, leafing through papers and trading files around.

Sam tossed the one he'd been looking at in the middle. "These guys are clean. Stay at home moms, volunteers, a student, a vice principle…Why'd they get picked?"

Cas shook his head. "Hopefully we'll find more tomorrow when we search their houses. Maybe they're all hiding something."

Dean sighed and put his file down, too. "Hiding something like what?"

"Something that would incite divine wrath."

Dean slumped back on the floor. "Divine wrath. Awesome."

They decided to visit the people in the order that they had been killed. Maybe they could find a pattern that way. The first led them down a fancy neighborhood, the kind where all the houses looked the same and all the men wore polo shirts. Dean shivered behind the wheel. "Ugh, it's all Pleasant Valley Sunday down here. I don't like it."

Cas read from the backseat. "Reggie O'Harris. He had a wife, Rita and they had six kids."

Dean snorted. "Get some, Reggie."

Cas ignored him. "He was an investment banker. Obviously successful. His eldest child found him. Margaret, sixteen years old."

They pulled into a perfectly paved driveway with a perfectly manicured yard. Dean shivered again. "Seriously, I hate it here."

Sam bit back a laugh and got out of the car. Cas brought the file with him, still flipping through it. Dean pushed the doorbell, and a young woman opened the door, holding a little kid, around two.

Sam frowned; he thought Rita O'Harris would be older. "Mrs. O'Harris?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Ew. No, that's my mom."

The girl turned. "Mom? Some skeevy guys are here."

An older woman came to the door, and they pulled the badges out.

"Ma'am. We're with the FBI, investigating what happened to your husband."

Mrs. O'Harris nodded at the floor and sighed. "I'd hoped all of this was done with. But okay. Please come in."

The house, of course, was immaculate and very modern. Mrs. O'Harris turned to her daughter. "Maggie, go upstairs with Lee…"

Dean cut in. "I'm sorry, but we'll need to speak with your daughter, too."

Maggie huffed and went upstairs, then came back without the kid. Mrs. O'Harris began walking. "Let's go in the den."

Dean whistled low. "That's some T.V."

They all sat. "Reggie liked sports. He said he needed to be able to pretend like he was there."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Sam cleared his throat. "Mrs. O'Harris…"

She cut him off. "Rita, please."

He nodded. "Rita. What can you tell us about your husband?"

She crossed her legs and sat straighter. "Reggie was devoted. We always wanted lots of children, and he loved every single one. He worked hard, but he never put work before us. Reggie never missed a single recital, play, ball game…And he was devoted to me. Never forgot a single birthday or anniversary."

She chuckled. "_I_ was the one who would forget."

Dean sat forward. "Did Reggie have a lot of friends?"

Rita shrugged. "Well, we have neighborhood get-togethers every so often. But we aren't really close with them. He worked in an office."

She nodded. "Yes. He had a friend at work, he would go to the bar with him every so often, maybe once or twice a month sometimes? Reggie wasn't a big drinker, but they would go to watch a game. What was his name? Jamie."

Cas wrote the name down. "You wouldn't happen to have his phone number, would you?"

Rita sighed and stood. "It may be on his cell phone. Excuse me."

Maggie clicked her tongue, a silver ball piercing tacking against her teeth. "What do you guys need me for?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Teenagers, seriously. "You found your Dad, right?"

"Yeah."

Dean was losing his patience, too. "Wanna elaborate?"

She glared at him. "It was around midnight. I was going to bed and went to get some water, and the back door was open. I went to check, and he was there next to the swing set."

"Then you called emergency services?"

Cas had asked the question, and she went to scowling at him, too. "Duh."

He tilted his head. "Because here in the police report, you said you found him when you woke up at seven, and called fifteen minutes later. The transcript of the recording is here."

The girl froze and eyed him. "I…I didn't…"

Sam nodded. "We know you didn't do anything, Maggie. But why'd you lie?"

She sniffed, and some of her eyeliner was starting to smudge. "I found him. And I was scared. So I went back in. It had to be a dream, right? That…That wasn't _possible_. But he was still there in the morning."

Rita came back in, a number written on a post-it. "Here. Is there anything else?"

Sam looked between Dean and Cas and they silently agreed to go. He gave Rita a card with his cell number in case she needed anything.

As they got in the car, Sam pulled his phone out, and dialed the number.

"Hello?"

It was a younger woman's voice. "Uhm, hi. I'm trying to reach Jamie?"

"This _is_ Jamie."

Sam looked down at the number; it was the one he'd dialed. "Do you know a Reggie O'Harris?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"My name is Agent Steward, from the FBI. We're investigating Mr. Harris's death."

Jamie sighed. "Yeah, okay. You wanna meet somewhere?"

"That'd be good, yeah."

"Well, right now I'm at the dog park. I'm wearing a really purple shirt." Jamie hung up.

Sam stared at the phone. "Huh."

Dean looked over. "Where're we going?"

"The dog park, apparently."

He rolled his eyes. "Awesome."

Like she had said on the phone, Jamie was easy to spot. She was sitting on a bench, a toddler next to her and she was keeping her eyes on another slightly older girl playing with a golden retriever. And yes, she was wearing a _very _loud,purple shirt.

"Jamie?"

She looked up. She couldn't be more than twenty five years old. "FBI guys, right?"

Jamie nodded toward a bench across from the one she was sitting on. She sighed. "I figured it would happen eventually."

Dean frowned. "When Reggie died, I figured someone would find out about us."

She screwed up her face. "Please. Don't tell his wife. I don't want to, you know, besmirch his memory."

"You were his mistress?"

She rolled her eyes. "It sounds all fancy when you say it like that. And, I'm not exactly into, you know…Normal stuff. Uhm. Reggie had, like, _needs_."

Dean bit back a laugh. "You were his _Dominatrix_?"

Jamie shrugged. "He'd text me when, I guess he'd been naughty or something, and we'd get together. I didn't ask a lot about his family. And, well, he was really the only one; business wasn't booming much, and I work at an insurance company now. I quit with the sex stuff when I got pregnant, but we did some work over the phone some evenings. I never told him about…"

She looked out at the kid.

Cas put it together. "The girl's father is Reggie."

Jamie smiled. "Yep. Named her Regina."

She patted the kid next to her on the head. "And this is Marco. Me and his dad are getting married next month."

They all three looked at each other. Dean cleared his throat and stood up. "Okay. Well, uh, congrats on the wedding. I think we have everything we need."

Sam and Cas followed him to the car. "Well, I guess we found his secret. Devoted family man having an affair."

Dean cut in. "A _dirty_ affair."

He got in and started the car. "Who next?"

xXxX

Cas held the file up. "John Monroe. He had a wife named Amy who died ten years ago. He retired from the Navy just before she died and now does a lot of work for the Salvation Army. He was found by his neighbor."

John Monroe lived in a shabby sort of apartment complex. It wasn't very rundown, but it wasn't in the best of shape either. Cas had the feeling that there were going to be cockroaches.

They talked to the neighbor first, a man named Steve who was very fidgety and made a huge effort not to let them see inside his apartment.

"John, ya know, John was cool. Quiet kinda dude. He had guys come over, I guess friends from the Salvation Army."

He scratched at his nose. "Uh, yeah. No kids, wife died. He put everything into that, uh, charity. Yeah, cool guy. I, uh, like I said, no kids. He had me listed as his, uh, what you call it? Emergency contact. Didn't show up at the store, so they called me. Gotta spare, see?"

He fumbled with a set of keys and rubbed at his nose some more. "Went in. Uh, he's just sittin' there. All stoned and stuff."

The man let out a little giggle and then slapped his hand over his mouth. He fumbled again and pulled John's key off. "Uh, just slip it under my door when you're done."

He dropped the key in Dean's hand then took off down the hallway. He shook his head and turned to the apartment across from Steve's, muttering something about 'junkies'.

John Monroe's apartment was very sparse. He had a smallish T.V with a DVD player and a small stack of movies, an old couch, a T.V dinner tray. There wasn't much in the kitchen. Frozen dinners, milk that was a month past due, an unopened bottle of champagne. The bathroom was small and dirty, and smelled very unpleasant. There was only one bedroom, and it was cluttered with what Cas could only assume was memorabilia from his life.

Sam and Dean were wandering around the place. "No EMF. Not that I really expected any." Their voices were coming from the kitchen, and Cas was still in the bedroom. He kneeled down and looked under the man's bed. There was one medium-sized, very battered cardboard box tucked away in the middle under the head board. Cas had to stretch a little to reach it, but he managed to pull it out.

"I think I may have found something!"

The other two came in pretty quick. "What's up, Cas?"

"This was hidden under the man's bed." They knelt on the floor next to him and he opened the flaps on the box.

There were quite a few DVD cases, unmarked except for dates. There was also a slip of paper with websites and what must be his usernames and passwords. Then there was a stack of several magazines called 'Twinklesticks and Snowballers'. Dean picked one up and looked through it.

"Oh…oh my God! How is that even…?"

He threw the magazine back down, but Cas picked it back up. It was a pornographic magazine, with pictures of various men in various sexual poses. One pale young man was doing something that looked somewhat improbable with another, more tanned and very muscular man. "Dean, this man is much smaller than you, and you _are_ very flexible…"

Dean interrupted him by putting his hand over Cas's mouth. Sam was frowning.

"This guy was pretty active in the local Salvation Army?"

Cas nodded; Dean still had his mouth covered.

"They aren't all that big on practicing homosexuals being a part of their organization."

Dean waved a magazine. "He jerked off to weird porn. I don't think that counts as practicing."

They all looked at the white DVD covers. "Do we really want to?"

Sam shook his head but picked up the most recent one, then they went into the living room and crowded on the smallish couch.

The film was dark at first, then a dim light came on. Cas recognized John Monroe at once; he had been one of those who wore the Crown of Thorns. There was another man with him, much younger. He was giggling; it was kinda annoying, he may have been drunk.

'I don't usually do this,' the young man said, but it was pretty clear he knew what he was doing, and was obviously very experienced.

Cas squinted and tilted his head. "That looks very uncomfortable for Mr. Monroe…"

Sam fumbled for the remote. "Okay, okay! So he _was_ practicing."

Dean leaned back. "So these are people whose lives would be ruined if someone knew their secrets. It's the only connection so far."

That was all they could learn there, so they slipped the key back in for Steve and left.

It was a smaller suburban area, but much more individualized than where they had been earlier.

"Jeff Arlen. His wife's name is Dana and they have a four year old daughter named Hannah. He and his wife run a thrift store, and they donate most of their profits to various charities. His wife found him in their bedroom when she woke up and he was on the floor…"

Dean sighed at the wheel, turning into another driveway. "Wonder what secrets he's hiding."

They knocked and Mrs. Arlen opened the door, looking tired. "Yes?"

They showed her the badges and she looked like she was going to cry. "I have been over this…I _can't_ talk about it anymore."

Sam stepped forward. "Mrs. Arlen, we know this is a _horrible_ time, and I am so sorry. But we need every detail so that was can find out what happened."

She sniffed and looked back inside. "Hannah doesn't know, and I don't want to leave her alone."

Dean grinned. "Well, we'll talk to you, and Agent Wyman will watch the kid."

Cas threw him a wide-eyed look. He was not prepared to deal with a human child. But Mrs. Arlen was nodding and Cas was shoved into the dining room, alone with the girl. Spread out all over the table were papers and crayons, and she was tracing her hand.

"Hello."

She looked up. "Who are you?"

He moved to sit across from Hannah. "My name's Cas. My friends are talking to your mom, and she asked me to watch you."

Hannah had red hair in pigtails, lots of freckles, and greyish eyes. "Cas is a funny name."

"My full name is funnier."

The little girl leaned forward. "What is it?"

"Castiel."

She giggled and nodded. "It is funny. What does it mean? Momma says Hannah means 'Grace'"

Cas nodded. "Your mother is correct. Castiel was the name of an angel. He was the Angel of Thursday."

Her eyes got huge and she whispered, "Are you an angel?"

Cas shook his head. "No. I'm afraid not."

Hannah went back to drawing, making her traced hand look somewhat like a turkey.

"May I draw with you?"

She shrugged. "I guess so."

There was a vase on the table, so he copied it. Crayons weren't his favorite, but he wasn't going to complain.

As he worked on the swirl design, Hannah spoke. "Are your friends gonna find out why my dad died?"

Cas froze. "Your mother said you didn't know about that."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "There was an ambulance, and police cars, and Momma was real upset, then my dad never came back home. Ms. Nicky says that's locket."

Cas set the crayon down. "I think you mean 'logic', and you are very smart for putting that together. I'm sorry about your father. But yes, we are going to find out why he died."

She looked right at him. "An angel did it."

He shook his head. "Hannah, why would an angel kill your father?"

"Because I prayed that something would take him away. I didn't want him to die, honest, but I wanted him to go away." Her big eyes filled up with tears.

"Why did you want him gone?"

Hannah started pulling at the end of one of her pigtails that had started coming loose. "He told me not to say. Because he would hurt Momma, and it'd be my fault."

She brightened a little. "But he's gone. So he can't hurt Momma, right?"

Cas tried to smile at her. He knew something bad had to have happened. "Nothing will hurt your mother, I promise."

He paused. "Did he hurt you?"

The little girl nodded slowly, still looking scared. Cas pulled over another blank paper and an ink pen from his pocket.

"Okay, Hannah, this is you, front and back…"

She giggled. "You even got my pigtails and the bunny on my shirt! But my hair needs to be fixed…"

"I'll fix it when I come back inside. But right now, I need you to put dots, everywhere he hurt you." He handed Hannah a blue crayon.

XxxX

Dean was starting to get bored hearing about how _good_ people were. Come on, seriously? This dude could've applied for Sainthood according to his wife. He was perfect. Maybe this guy had been smited just out of spite. God, Dean wanted to punch the guy in the face.

Dana looked behind him suddenly and he turned. Cas was coming towards them across the lawn, and he looked _pissed_. 'Divine wrath', he had said.

"Mrs. Arlen, were you aware that your husband physically abused your daughter?"

She mouthed silently for a moment, then turned bright red. "How _dare_ you? What even gives you the…"

Cas cut her off and held a paper up. It was a sketch of the little girl dotted in several places in crayon.

"Hannah told me, and she showed me."

Dana started shaking her head and looked like she might be sick. "No…No. Hannah would have told me…"

Cas handed the paper over to Sam. "He threatened that if she told, he would hurt you. She prayed for something to make him go away, and the next night he died."

Dana was hunched over a little now, muttering 'my baby girl…my baby girl…' over and over.

Sam nodded at Dean and he and Cas went back into the house. Crying people was Sam's department.

"I hate that for the kid."

Cas shook his head. "There _is_ something Heavenly going on here, Dean. We have to find out what."

Hannah was bouncing on the floor of the living room when they got inside.

"Hannah, this is Dean."

"Hi. Cas promised to fix my hair!"

Dean looked over and Cas had turned just a shade redder. "Yes, I did promise, didn't I?"

She held up a pink hair brush and Cas sat behind her. He took the elastic bands out, and started brushing through her hair.

"So. I gotta ask. _When_ did you learn to braid hair?"

Dean had sat down in a chair facing Hannah, so she couldn't see the stink face Cas threw at him.

"Meg taught me."

"Who's Meg?"

Dean fought not to laugh; this is why he liked kids sometimes.

"Meg was a friend. She took care of me when I had to be in a hospital."

He started on one side of her hair. "Why were you in a hospital?"

Cas rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I went to sleep for a long time."

"Like Sleeping Beauty?"

Dean snorted involuntarily, and Cas took his hand away from braiding long enough to shoot him the bird.

"No, not like Sleeping Beauty. I, uhm…I hurt my head, and my brain wasn't fixed yet."

Hannah nodded. "Like a confushun?"

"You mean 'a concussion'. Yes."

"And Meg took care of you?"

Cas nodded, moving to the other braid. "She did. After I woke up, and was waiting for Dean to come and get me, I got bored. So she thought it would be…useful, if I learned how to braid hair."

Dean laughed. "I'm sorry I missed that one."

Hannah frowned. "You two, and that other man work together?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. We've been working together for a long time now."

She glared at him, and Dean was a little scared. "Then why'd you let him get his head hurt?"

Cas tugged on the braid he was almost done with. "It was my own fault. No one else's."

He started tying the braid together at the end. "What happened?"

Cas dropped his hands and frowned. "Without going into detail, let's just say I drove through a wall. Now, go find a mirror and see how they look."

Hannah bounced off and Cas stood up. "You got a way with kids, man."

Cas smiled. "She is a nice girl. I think she would be just as friendly with anyone she met."

Sam and Dana came in. The woman's face and eyes were very red, but she seemed to have calmed down. Hannah ran up to her. "Momma, look! Cas fixed my hair for me!"

Dana sniffled and pulled her daughter into a hug. "That's great, Baby."

Sam nodded towards the door. "We'll let you go now. Please, call if anything comes up."

Dana nodded and they headed towards the door.

"Wait!"

Hannah ran up to the dining room table and grabbed a paper off of it. "This is for you."

Cas held it like it was something precious. "Thank you, Hannah."

After they got in the car, Dean turned around in the seat. "I wanna see."

Cas handed him the drawing and Sam leaned over to look, too.

It was a kid's drawing, kinda messy, but Hannah had given him the same colored shirt he was wearing and blue pants, and there were lighter blue dots for eyes. But behind him she had outlined in black what were obviously supposed to be wings, and had put a little yellow circle over his head.

Dean handed it back. "Cas, how much did you tell that kid?"

He chuckled. "Just that I was named after an angel. That's all."

Cas leaned down and put Jeff Arlen's file in the backpack they had stuffed with all the papers and pulled out the next one. "Victim number four. Are we ready?"

Dean sighed and put the car into reverse. "What's up with this one?"

He cleared his throat. "Lacy Nicolson. Active member in Alcoholics Anonymous, she had a sponsor, Henry Martin. She'd been sober for almost two years. Never married, no children. It was the sponsor who found her."

Dean looked over at Sam. "We should go by the A.A place first, right? I mean, this sponsor guy probably knew her the best."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, definitely. I thought A.A gave you the heeby-jeebies, though."

"Yeah, when I was still drinking half my body weight and was afraid they'd tackle me and make me 'reform', or whatever."

Dean glanced back at Cas. "Does it say where she went for the meetings?"

Cas read off an address, and it was about a fifteen minutes drive from where they had been. It was a very plain building, with just a blue A.A logo on the frosted glass door. Despite what he'd told Sammy, Dean was just a little nervous about going in. What if they looked at him and just _knew_? He was disappointed with that period of his life, the choices he'd made. Purgatory had been his own A.A., but no way someone here could understand that.

Sam led the way in, and Cas hung back for just a second and grabbed his hand, and squeezed gently. His eyes said 'it'll be okay' before he let go and followed Sam inside the office.

The first thing Dean noticed was a large banner hanging on the back wall, with the Serenity Prayer on it. A short, lanky kid with dulling purple hair, eyeliner, and flaking black fingernail polish came up to them.

"Hello! How can I help you?" He was awfully cheerful for an emo dude.

They pulled out their badges. "We're looking for Henry Martin."

Dean was more than happy to let Sammy take over this one. The guy's face fell.

"That'd be me. This's about Lacy, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said as they tucked the badges back in their pockets. "You found her, right?"

Henry tilted his head and led them over to a stack of fold-up chairs and he pulled down four and put them in a circle. He waited until they were all sitting before he answered.

"Yeah. I found Lacy. See, we meet up for lunch every Thursday, and she never showed. I called her cell, and she didn't answer, which is weird, because she always keeps her phone on her. So I went by her apartment. We both have spare keys for each other's places. I'd never had to use mine before."

Henry ran his hand through his hair. "She was in front of the T.V, facing her window. I…Called 911, that's all I could do."

He sighed. "I messed up, I slipped. Had to go to a bar, ten years of sobriety…Gone."

Dean looked closer. "Ten years? How old are you?"

Henry glared a little at him. "I'm twenty-six. I started drinking when I was fifteen, and I crossed a double yellow line and killed a mom and her three month old."

He leaned forward towards Dean. "How old were you when you started getting drunk? What mistakes did _you_ make?"

Dean felt his jaw drop, and he barely saw Cas stand up out of the corner of his eye.

"Thank you, Mr. Martin, for your time."

Sam stood up, too, and Dean got up shaking just a little. Cas had a bizarre smile on his face.

"And thank you also for the wonderful work you do here for the community…"

Henry smiled a little. "…and for upholding the non-judgmental spirit that Alcoholics Anonymous prides it's self on."

Both of their smiles dropped off and Cas grabbed Dean by the elbow and pulled him out of the office, Sam following as quick as he could.

"Damn, Cas. I think you made that dude cry," Sam muttered as the door closed behind him. Cas shrugged, obviously not giving a crap about it.

Dean was still trying to shake off what Henry had said, but he headed for the driver's door anyway. Cas stopped him.

"I wanna drive."

"Huh?"

"I never get to drive. Please?"

Dean looked over at Sam, who just shrugged and looked a little like he thought this was funny.

"No."

Dean stuck his hand in his pocket to get the keys, but they weren't there. He looked up and Cas had them dangling from his finger.

"_Now_ may I drive?"

He looked back over at Sam, but he had his head buried in his arms and his shoulders were shaking.

"The fuck…Did you…Did you _pick pocket_ me?"

Cas just rolled his eyes and shoved past Dean and got in the driver's seat. Sammy was about to sit in the passenger seat, but Dean shooed him away. "Hell no, I at least get the Goddamned front seat!"

Sam practically fell in the backseat, still cackling. Cas started the car, Dean's Baby, the single most important not alive thing in his life, and pulled out. He already knew the address of Lacy Nicolson's apartment, and Cas started toward it. He got only a little lost. And Dean hit the imaginary brake pedal a few times, even though Cas managed to stop with plenty enough time. He could feel the smug amusement radiating from Sam in the backseat. Dean had a feeling that Cas hadn't been the one to lift the keys off him. They were conspiring together now.

No one was safe.

Lacy lived in a community made up of about ten or so houses, all with four apartments in them. Her's was an upstairs apartment, and Sam and Cas kept watch while Dean picked the lock on the door.

Dean remembered which one was Lacy. She had had brown hair and had been wearing a nicer, clean outfit. That appearance didn't match what her place looked like. The sink was piled up with dirty dishes, the trashcan was almost overflowing, there was a pile of mail that was about to fall over, bed unmade, clothes thrown all over, half-empty coffee mugs in every room, a pile of mildewed towels in the bathroom.

Sammy was holding his hand under his nose. "God, this woman lived like a teenage boy."

They had no idea where to start looking for some clues, so they split up and just poked around.

After about fifteen minutes, Sam called from the kitchen. "Hey, guys, I think I got it!"

Dean and Cas met up with him. Sam was kneeling down in front of the sink, looking in the cabinet underneath. He pulled a couple empty bottles of Southern Comfort out.

"I don't think Lacy was as sober as everyone thought she was."

He reached in and brought out a bag. The bottle in it was about halfway empty. "The receipt says this was bought three days before she died."

Cas was frowning. "But why? Why fake sobriety? What would the point be?"

Dean held up the book he had just found in Lacy's nightstand. "I think I might know."

"It's her diary. She talks a lot about Henry. He kinda lied to us about him and Lacy. He wasn't just her sponsor."

Sam looked surprised. "They were sleeping together?"

Dean nodded. "Oh yeah. It's called 'thirteenth-stepping'. People going to A.A just to hook up. She started going, nabbed Henry, and kept up the Janis Joplin diet regimen. But Henry really did think she was sober. Lacy was one tricky bitch."

Sam sighed and shook his head. "So that was her big secret then, I guess."

Dean nodded. "Yep."

He turned and glared at Cas. "I suppose you're gonna wanna drive to the next place?"

XxxX

Sam read the file from the backseat, happy for the switch up. Cas seemed to really enjoy driving, and he was good at it. Especially considering how short a time he'd been human. Dean was just a nervous passenger. It really was kinda funny.

"Okay. Harold Spencer. He was the Vice Principal at Beechwood High School. He was married, but his wife left him twelve years ago; she lives in Malibu now. His neighbor saw a weird light across the street and went to check it out. Mr. Spencer was in his backyard. He was very active in the school. Head of a lot of committees, and his biggest thing was drug use prevention in kids."

Dean turned to look at him. "Where do you think we go first; the school or the house?"

Sam shut the file. "I'd say the school. He practically put his life into it."

Beechwood was just a normal high school, with a bunch of kids milling around, guys gawking at the Impala, and some cheerleaders eyeing Dean and giggling.

Dean had turned to Cas. "You have no idea how lucky you are to not have had to live through this."

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed the office door open. The secretary gave them a suspicious look. "May I help you?"

Dean pulled his badge out. "Ma'am we're from the FBI, and we're investigating Mr. Spenc…"

She started flapping her hands and shushing him loudly.

"No! You can't say…_None_ of the students know about his disappearance. We haven't let them know yet."

Dean just stared at the woman. "Well, we still need access to his office."

She just scowled at him, then sighed and motioned for them to follow her down a hallway, and she unlocked a door. "This is his office. The police have already been all over it."

She stalked off, and Cas shut the door behind him. "She wasn't very nice."

Sam looked around the office. The desk was a little cluttered, but more or less organized. He had trophies and diplomas decorating the room. Just a normal office.

Dean had sat down behind the desk and was checking the drawers.

"Huh. Every other drawer was open, but this one's locked." He looked up and grinned.

"Let's find out what Dick Vernon has to hide."

He had it open after a minute, and they all looked in.

"It's just an address book."

Sam pulled it out. There were a few post-its on the front page, but he flipped to the current day.

"Hey. He has a thing today. He's meeting someone, it just says 'J'. It's in an hour."

He flipped back to the front and pulled off a note. "Here's his address."

Dean grabbed it. "Alright. Let's go then."

As it turned out, J lived in a pretty seedy area. It was an apartment off of an alley, and even though it was early afternoon, the sun didn't reach down here and it was shady and dark. Dean was looking around out the windows.

"I'm doing this one alone, guys." He fished and pulled the Fed ID and his wallet out and put them in the floor of the car, then doubled checked the clip in his handgun and moved it to the waistband of his jeans.

Cas looked at him sharply. "What?"

"This guy is going to be suspicious enough that Spencer isn't here. If more than one person shows up, he's gonna know something's up, and he could…Overreact."

Sam leaned forward. "We aren't just going to let you…"

"Yeah, you are," Dean cut him off sharply. "Look. I know how to deal with these kinds of people. You guys don't. You'd accidently say something to tip them off and someone could get shot. So I'm going alone."

Dean opened his door, harder than he normally may have, but Cas reached over and grabbed his arm. Dean turned back around, probably to tell him off.

"Just be careful, Dean."

He smiled a little and patted Cas's hand on his arm before climbing out of the car. He leaned back in.

"If I'm not back in thirty minutes, come on up. But I should be done before then."

He grinned briefly at them both, then shut the door.

xXxX

Dean knew the guys meant well. But Sammy tended to be determined to think that every person had a kind and loving soul, deep, deep down. And Cas was still pretty naïve about some things, and Dean didn't want to introduce him to this side of the human experience yet.

He knocked on door eleven, paint and balsa wood flaking off. The door opened just revealing a bloodshot brown eye with bags underneath.

"What?"

"You J?"

The eye narrowed. "No."

"Oh. My mistake. Spencer told me this was the place, I musta…"

The door shut, and there was the sound of a chain moving out of place and the door opened all the way. J was pallid and emaciated, his clothes hanging off him, and his hair was greasy and matted, and Dean could tell his teeth were rotting.

"Spence sentcha?"

"Yeah. In case of emergency only. He hadn't shown up lately, right?"

J waved him in. "No. Stood me twice. Where is he?"

"Got ganked. I don't know who, or why. May have been an accident."

J sat on a sofa that should be salted and burned as quick as possible, and lit up a freshly rolled joint. "Man, accidents don't happen."

He offered it to Dean, and while he didn't exactly want to, he knew this guy wouldn't trust him if he refused. So he got on the sofa, feeling dirty, and took some hits, then passed it back.

"Nah, I guess not."

J looked him over. "How'd you know Spence exactly?"

Dean had already thought this one up; Mr. Spencer had had some golfing trophies in his office. "The golf range."

He choked a little on the smoke. "Yeah. You look like the golfin' type."

J handed the joint back to Dean. "Man, you get to go and smack the hell out of some balls…great stress relief."

He coughed some. "Not as good as this, though."

J set it on the table in an ashtray full of blunts. "What happened to Spence?"

Dean shrugged. "Dunno. I called him, never called back, so I went to his house. A neighbor told me he'd been hauled off in a body bag. He'd told me a while back that if anything happened to him, I should get in touch with you."

He picked his next words carefully. "You fenced for him, right?"

J nodded. "Yeah, we been workin' for a few years now."

He squinted at Dean. "He ever tell you who his supplier was?"

Dean shrugged. "Naw, man. I was hoping you'd tell me. I fenced some for him, too, when money got tight."

J shook his head. "Guess I'm gonna need to look for another guy. I got a few suppliers, but Spence, man…"

He nodded his head. "He had the good shit."

Dean nodded with him. The walls were starting to get a little shifty. "I hear ya."

He clapped his hands together and stood up. "It's been good meetin' ya, J."

J stood up. "Never got your name."

Dean swayed a little. "Well. You're J, so you call me…Q."

For whatever reason, they both found that really hilarious, and Dean was wiping tears out from his eyes a few minutes later.

"Whoo! Well, gotta go."

J unlocked the door and let him out. "See ya around, man."

Dean waved at the end of the hallway and managed to get back to the Impala, even though the stairs seemed a little crooked. Sam and Cas were standing outside, leaning on the trunk.

"Oh, good, we were just about to…"

Cas didn't get to finish because Dean basically tackled him, and knocked his air out. "Dean, you reek," he managed to wheeze out a minute later, but Dean ignored him and bear hugged Sammy next.

"Ugh, Dean, seriously?"

He shoved Dean off of him, but Dean couldn't get the smile off his face. "I really love you guys, you know that?"

Sam patted his arm and started to steer him towards the car doors. "Yeah, we get that. Now, how about…"

Dean squealed in joy and ran up to the hood of the car and leaned down on it, hugging her, as best as you could hug a car. "My Baby! Don't worry, I love you the most."

Cas had crossed his arms and frowned. "I think I'm offended by that."

"Shhh, Baby, don't listen. You're the only one for me…"

Cas looked like he was a few seconds away from shooting the car or possibly Dean, so Sam forcibly shoved Dean in the backseat, then he and Cas got in, too. "We should go to this guy's house, right?"

Dean nodded, looking blitzed out. "That's a good idea, Sammy. We're gonna find drugs there. Whole lotta."

Sam was driving, so Cas turned around to look at him. "Why do you say that?"

Dean shrugged and waved at himself. "That 'J' was a drug dealer?"

"Yep. He sure was."

Cas narrowed his eyes at him. "And you're high right now, aren't you?"

Dean giggled some. "As a fucking _kite_, man!"

Sam shook his head. This was _just_ what they needed.

XxxX

Sam turned the radio on while he drove to Harold Spencer's house, finding a classics station so Dean could amuse himself by singing at the roof of the car. Cas was sitting shotgun and looking a little pissed off.

"Hey, Cas, don't worry about this."

"About what?" Yeah, he was pissed off.

"Dean hasn't gotten high since, like, I think he was twenty or something. It was some weird passive-aggressive rebellion thing against Dad I think, I never really asked."

Cas huffed. "Yeah, I know. It's just…We're on a _job_, one that seems more and more important the more we look into it, and he goes and does this."

Sam nodded. "I get what you're saying. But you know Dean just about as well as I do. I'm sure he has reasons he'll explain once he's back on our side of the rainbow. There's still the two of us, and Dean can probably function some."

There was a long moment of quiet before Cas sighed. "I can't protect him, or you, not the way I used to. And I worry."

He smiled though. "But…I suppose you managed before I came around."

Sam had to laugh. "Yeah, I guess we did. It's kinda hard to remember back to when you weren't around. But you're always gonna worry, one way or another. Family'll make you do that."

He looked back. Dean was glazed over and absently singing 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' along with the radio, but only getting half the words right.

Sam pulled into Harold Spencer's driveway. It was a pretty nice neighborhood, almost as nice as the one they'd seen first that morning.

"Okay, the neighbor across the street found this guy. Let's leave Dean here, and we'll go check him out."

Cas grinned. "That sounds like an excellent idea."

Sam turned the car off, and Dean continued singing along to 'The Wall' even with the radio off, so he figured he'd be okay for a few minutes.

They walked across the street and up a walkway. Cas rapped on the door, and it was opened by an elderly man who looked freakishly like Mr. Rogers.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon. Are you Charles Radley?"

The man took off his reading glasses. "I am."

"Mr. Radley, I'm Agent Steward, this is Agent Wyman. We're investigating Harold Spencer's death."

The man nodded sadly. "Yes. Poor man."

"We understand you saw something?"

Mr. Radley nodded. "Yes. I was taking the garbage out to the curb. And right across the street, behind his house, was a light."

He shook his head. "I'd never seen the like before."

"Can you describe it?"

He sighed. "The closest I can say was that it was like a camera flash. But it lasted longer, and was…Bluer? I guess that's the best I can say. My vision isn't what it used to be."

Sam and Cas nodded. "And where was Mr. Spencer?"

Mr. Radley nodded towards the house. "His backyard. It looked like he was going back into the house through the backdoor."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Radley."

The old man nodded, and started to turn back into his house, but stopped. "You boys are going to find out what did this to Harold, aren't you?"

Sam nodded and smiled encouragingly. "We're doing our best, sir."

Mr. Radley closed his door and Sam and Cas went back to the Impala. "I think we'll need Dean for looking around the house."

Sam opened one of the back doors. Dean was still gently humming something that vaguely resembled 'American Pie' or could have been 'Blinded By the Light'.

"Hey, earth to Cheech!"

Dean rolled his head around. "Hey, Sammy. Did you know you're my favorite little brother? Uh, wait…That's not trapped in Hell. You're my favorite not-in-Hell little brother."

"Yeah, thanks, come on, get out. We're searching for bad stuff, remember."

Dean nodded and scrambled out of the car, almost falling over. "Bad stuff. We're good at bad stuff."

Cas was still clearly annoyed with him, so he went on to the back before the brothers.

"Sam, Sammy, Sam, hey…"

He was grabbing onto his jacket sleeve. "_What_, Dean?"

"What'd I do to Cas to make him mad?"

Sam groaned; he didn't to be in the middle of any of this stuff, and 'drunk' Dean was way easier to deal with than 'stoned' Dean, and he was reaching the top of his 'I've-Had-Enough-Of-This-Bullshit-O'Meter'.

"You told the car that you loved it more than him. Now come on."

Sam dragged Dean by the sleeve to the backyard, and he kept stumbling. Cas was standing in the middle of the yard, looking around.

"This is interesting. Some people were found petrified in their homes, and others outside. There doesn't seem to be a pattern, but it is weird. Why was Reggie O'Harris out near a swing set at nighttime? And why was Harold Spencer out here?"

Sam stopped and looked around. "Huh. Yeah, it doesn't look like there's anything worth being out here for. No trash cans, he doesn't have any patio type stuff. It would have been in the report if he had, like a telescope or something like that out with him."

Dean chuckled absently. "Lemme in, Auntie Em!"

Sam turned to see what Dean was talking about; he hadn't let go of Dean's sleeve. He was pointing at a set of cellar doors that was near the backdoor to the house. There was a heavy chain around the door handles and padlocked. Not suspicious at all.

Cas shrugged and reached his hand out for the keys. "I'll get the bolt cutters."

"Thanks. Couple of flashlights, too."

Cas came back in a couple of minutes, but he was frowning. "That blue flash the neighbor saw…"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it sounded like angel light. Like when you guys were smiting people, and they all had their eyes burnt. But, there aren't any angels left."

Cas shook his head. "Metatron, maybe?"

Sam shrugged, but then he thought of something. "Hey, Lizzy said she felt when the other mangels died. She would know if another angel was around, wouldn't she?"

"I don't know. I think she would have mentioned that when she came to tell us about all this."

Cas frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Hello?"

He looked at Sam. "Hey, Lizzy. Yeah, we were just…"

"You heard Sam like a prayer?" Cas shrugged at Sam.

"No. This case…It has a bit of an angelic feel about it. Do you know of any angels that may still be around?"

He listened for a while then nodded. "Okay. Well, thanks. We'll talk soon."

Cas put his phone away. "She can feel Metatron in Heaven, he's never left. And she can feel Michael and Lucifer still in their cage. But there are no other angels, unless they're hiding themselves very, very well."

He started towards the cellar doors. "This is very aggravating."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Things on this case just keep getting weirder the longer we dig into them. A demon? Possessing someone and doing…I don't know, angel impersonations?"

Cas pulled the heavy chain away, and opened the doors then dusted his hands off. "It's a possibility."

He handed a flashlight to Sam, who still had a hold on Dean's sleeve, and clicked his own on.

It was a typical cellar; dark, moldy smelling. It was kind of small, considering the size of the house. Cas was looking around, frowning.

"I thought these sort of places were for storage?"

He nodded. "Usually. Doesn't look like he's got anything down here."

Dean shook his arm. "What?"

"Then why'd he have it ladpocked?"

Cas snorted, but kept looking around. He reached the far wall and squinted at it. "There's something different here."

Sam walked over and looked at the wall. "You're right. This section; it's a different material."

He felt around it. "There's a seam."

Cas shined his flashlight around. "A door? How does it open?"

Sam let go of Dean and handed him the flashlight. He started making shadow puppets. Badly.

"Help me push it, Cas."

They leaned into the section of the wall and it slid back pretty easily, and then they pushed it towards the left. It opened into the rest of the cellar, which was much nicer. It was clean and dry. Sam felt around and there was a light switch.

There was a metal table, and what looked like a lot of different chemicals on a row of shelves against the wall. There were some notes pinned up here and there, and some printed out pictures.

Cas was roaming around the room. "What is all this stuff?"

Dean had followed them inside. "Our boy Spence was making coke."

Sam turned to look at him. "Are you serious?"

He shrugged and lolled against the wall. "Vice principle. He could order stuff for the school's chemistry classes, then take it and noooo one would know."

Dean gestured wildly. "All the stuff to make grade 'A' cocaine. Zero cost, one hundred percent profit. Best business idea _ever_."

He wandered over to a shelf and pulled out a box and opened it. Dean held up a zip lock bag about a quarter of a way full of white power.

Sam huffed. "And the cause he advocated for the most in the community and especially in the school was drug use prevention."

"That would be his dirty secret, then."

Sam nodded and looked around. "What should we do?"

Cas frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We can't just leave all this stuff here. I mean, it's dangerous."

"Hey. I gottan idea…"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam and Cas demanded in unison.

Cas shrugged. "Call the police?"

"Good idea. Let's just get way away from here first, okay? Like, the other side of town."

xxXX

"Okay. Next we have a Dr. Lincoln Adams. Divorced, one daughter who lives with her mom in Virginia. He used to be a professor at U.N.C. Wilmington. Taught Anatomy and Physiology until he was in a car crash, then he had to go on disability. He was wheelchair bound, paralyzed from the waist down. He worked part-time at an animal shelter not far from where he lived."

Cas turned to Sam. "Should we go to the shelter first?"

He shrugged, looking through the papers in the file. "Okay, I think that's a good idea. From what it says here, it doesn't sound like he was associated with many others besides the people at the shelter."

They pulled up next to the shelter. Cas and Sam both turned to look at Dean in the backseat. He seemed more lucid than he had before, thankfully.

"Dean?" Sam was speaking in soothing tones, like one would do to a disturbed person.

Dean just sort of blinked at him. "What's up, Sammy?"

"We've moved on to the next victim. You feel up to coming into an animal shelter with us, or waiting out here?"

He looked around hazily, and caught Cas's eyes. "Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

He chuckled. "I like it when you do that. 'Hello, Dean'."

Cas frowned. "I sound nothing like that."

Dean leaned forward so his chin was resting on the back of the front seat. "I love you, you know that?"

"So you've said. But we're _working_, Dean. Are you coming in with Sam and me or not?"

Dean looked sad, like an over-sized toddler. "Yeah. I guess so."

They all got out of the car and went inside the shelter. It was a very nice building, and it smelled clean and a lot of the people working there looked friendly and happy. A lady with a warm smile and dark brown hair was at the front desk.

"Hello, my name is Jessica, how may I help you?"

They explained about Dr. Adams. Jessica nodded sadly. "I heard about that a few days ago. Mick, he's the manager, he went to check on him when he hadn't shown up here."

Dean leaned, well, more slumped against the desk. "We, the F.B.I, would like to speak with Manager Mick."

Jessica's face twitched, like she was trying really hard not to laugh. "Okay, I'll call for him."

She typed on her phone. "Hi Mick, it's Jessica. There're some men from the F.B.I here, asking about Link. Thanks."

She smiled at them. "He'll be right up."

They sat down in some chairs while they waited. Soon, a man came out, wearing the same uniform everyone else in the shelter was wearing.

He walked over to them. "F.B.I?"

Sam stood up, Cas helping Dean who was still a little wobbly. "Yes sir."

"Well, come on back. I got an office were we can have some privacy."

Mick led the through some hallways that smelled like dog food and antiseptic, then opened a door. He had a desk with several stacks of paperwork on it, and quite a few certificates hanging on the walls along with some pictures of himself with others and with animals, supposedly from the shelter.

Dean dropped into a chair and Cas set next to him, but Sam was looking at the frames on the walls.

"What can I do to help?"

Cas leaned forward. "We understand you found Dr. Adams?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry to say. I'll never get that image out of my head."

Mick looked up. "Link…Lincoln. He was a good guy. The animals loved him, everyone here loved him. He was devastated when he had to give his job at the university up, and with his wife and kid moving away…It took him a while to adjust, but Link was happy here."

He sighed absently. "He wasn't very sociable. Everything he needed was in distance of where he could push his wheelchair to. I think he was self-conscious; because of the chair. So we became like his family…Us and the animals."

Cas nodded. "I am very sorry. How did you find him?"

He sighed. "He hadn't shown up, he didn't answer his phone…So I went to check on Link. He…"

Mick cleared his throat. "He has a ramp from his back porch, and then a path to his shed. His wheelchair was at the bottom of the ramp, like he was going back up to the house."

He paused. "But, Link, uh…He was in the grass, kneeling, looking up. A good ways from his chair. Halfway between his chair and the shed."

The man sighed. "The whole thing was…_is_ impossible."

Cas looked over at Sam, who nodded. "Thank you for your time, we appreciate it."

They shook hands, then Cas let Sam handle Dean back outside. Sam looked around. "Hey, it's pretty close. Let's just walk to the dude's house. Only a few blocks."

"That sounds like a good idea."

They walked for a few minutes before Sam spoke up again. "Hey, after we get this one cleared up, why don't we call it a day? We'll have six, then we'll do the other six tomorrow."

Cas nodded. "Sure. Besides, by then _he'll_ probably be straightened out, and we can get more done."

Dean snorted. "Dude, whatever. I am _totally_ straight."

Sam and Cas rolled their eyes. The walk was pleasant, a slight tang of saltwater in the air, and the feel of a possible oncoming storm later in the evening. Dean was walking steady now, so they just made their way down crape myrtle lined sidewalks, until Cas double checked a road with the address in the file and they turned.

Lincoln Adams' house was the only one on the street with a ramp outside the front, leading to the front door from the flat driveway which led past the front yard, which was pretty grown over.

"Manager Mick said the dude was out back," Dean mentioned. The fresh-aired walk seemed to have done him some good.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, another person found outside. I wonder why his neighbors didn't see him?"

That was answered when they went around the side of the house, which was overgrown in ivy. Mr. Adams had had a large, flaking white fence around the back of his house, effectively hiding him from the neighbors.

Sam whistled. "That guy wasn't kidding. He was really private."

Cas sighed and moved around to where Mick said he'd found Dr. Adams. "Look at this."

It was a small circle, around where his body had been. The overgrown grass and weeds had been devoid of color, a perfect white circle. "This hasn't been at any of the other sites."

Dean had leaned down to look at it, but ended up falling back and sitting next to the patch. "Huh."

He sniffed at it. "Smells funny."

Cas kneeled down across from him, flipping open the file. "This wasn't here before. All of the pictures show this area as being normal."

He set the file aside and leaned down. "It does smell familiar."

Sam had joined them. "Uh…Not to me."

Cas reached down to touch the grass, but Dean grabbed his wrist. "Wait, don't. What if it's some kind of…poison, or something?"

He shook Dean's hand off. "It isn't poisonous, don't worry."

Cas rubbed his hand across the area, and sent up a puff of white dust, making the grass slightly colored again. "Ground up flower petals."

He sniffed at the powder on his hand, then wiped it off on his jeans and stood up. "_Coffea arabica_."

Sam and Dean stared at him. "Coffee flowers, guys."

Dean shook his head. "Coffee comes from _beans_, Cas."

"Yes, but the same plant also produces small, white flowers that smell nothing resembling coffee."

Sam looked impressed. "Huh. You learn something new every day. So, why is the place where Lincoln Adams killed covered in coffee flower powder?"

Dean snorted. "Dude, you rhymed."

Cas shrugged. "One more mystery to put on top of the million of mysteries we already have from this case."

Sam got up. "Okay, well, here's another. How'd a paraplegic walk from his chair over here…"

He moved to the bottom of the ramp a few feet away. "…to over there?"

Cas shrugged again. "No idea. But the man said it appeared that Dr. Adams was going in from being out in his shed. I suspect we'll find whatever his 'big secret' is in there."

Dean clambered up off the grass and led the way over. "Looks like a shed."

Sam sighed. "No shit, Sherlock."

It was locked with a simple bolt that opened up easily.

Inside was normal. There were pots, some bags of dirt, fertilizer, and a couple of trowels. Everything was pretty dusty. Dean coughed. "Why would he be in here?"

Sam had kept his flashlight on him, and he clicked it on. "Look at that."

On the far wall, there was a low shelf, full end to end in gardening books. It was completely covered in dust, except one place where a thick text had obviously been pulled out. They walked over and Dean pulled it out.

Behind the book was a small switch. Sam glanced between Dean and Cas. "Here goes nothin'."

He flipped it, and the floor beneath them started moving down. Slow, like an elevator. Buried under the shed was a much larger concrete basement. The slab of floor they came down on touched the bottom and to the left, right next to Cas was a light switch and another switch like the one that operated the lift. He flipped on the light switch and immediately regretted it.

Sam stood in shock. "What the hell?"

It was a rudimentary laboratory, with two long metal tables covered in surgical drapes. More tables held different instruments, some laid out in jumbles, others soaking in what was hopefully alcohol. And along the walls were cages.

Cas was the first to make himself move further into the room, and to look in the cages. They were full of monstrosities. Parts of different animals stitched onto others, torn apart, mangled. They were all dead, of course. Somehow, the glass cases held in what should have been a horrible stench, but then Cas noticed a large ventilation system that had been running since before they came down.

Sam was looking through some cabinets. "This guy was disgusting. He took animals from that shelter, then brought them here."

He dropped a large book on the counter, the man's lab book. "He was bored since he had to retire. Lincoln Adams was trying to be Dr. Frankenstein. He's got all the stuff here to try and reanimate a creature. These were his failures."

Cas felt very, very cold and numb, and more than a little nauseous. "Fiji Mermaid," he whispered, not totally aware of what he was saying.

"Do what, Cas?" Sam was bent over the book still.

He cleared his throat, not being able to turn away from the cases. "P.T Barnum. He, uhm, claimed to have possession of a real mermaid and people paid to see it. It was a hoax of course, but people still came."

Dean had walked up to him, and with Sam turned away, he reached for Cas' hand and squeezed it tight. Sam flipped through more pages.

"Yeah? What was it really?"

"A…a mummified monkey's torso, stitched to a fishes tail."

Dean pulled on his hand, dragging him back towards the small lift. "Sammy, make that book to-go. We're getting out of here."

There was an order in his tone; the lab was a sobering sight in more ways than one, and Dean was getting his faculties back quicker than he had before. Sam shut the book and they went back up to the seemingly innocuous garden shed.

XxxX

Sam and Cas didn't really want to eat after the lab, so Dean dropped them off at their motel then swung by a diner he remembered passing by. He had a serious need for a cheeseburger. And their advertised 'world's best onion rings'. And three slices of pie. And a milkshake. With another cheeseburger. And two more slices of pie.

How he didn't blow a seam in his pants he didn't know, but when he finally wasn't feeling like he was going to starve to death, they were definitely fitting tighter. He made his way back to the room, where there were sweatpants.

His two nerds were sitting in the floor with all six of the folders they had investigated today out in front of them, trying to see if they could find any connection at all. Besides that they were all no-good lying douchewads. Cheaters, child abusers, drug lords…Dean figured that they had it coming, and God only knew what they would find tomorrow.

He had _every_ intention of helping them out, trying to find a pattern. But as soon as Dean changed into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, he just sort of passed out on the bed.

When Dean woke up, he was a little disoriented because it was dark. He could see the neon clock numbers; it was just past three in the morning. He groaned and thumped his head back on the pillow.

The pressure on the mattress moved, and Dean realized Cas was in the bed with him.

"Dean? You okay?" His voice was hushed, not wanting to wake up Sam.

"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't know you were in bed."

"Where else would I be?" Cas moved closer, so he and Dean fit next to each other like they normally did.

"I figured you'd still be pissed and sleep on the couch."

He snorted against Dean's neck. "I'm not mad at you, I was just slightly annoyed with you. And if I was angry, I would have shoved your ass off the bed and claimed it as my own."

Dean waited a few beats. "My ass, or the bed?"

Cas shook, trying to keep laughter as quiet as possible.

"You are awful, you know that?"

Dean shrugged. "I think you love me anyway."

Cas moved and kissed him gently, then touched their noses together. "I think you're right."

He settled back down and yawned. "Good night, mon ange."

Dean shifted so he could hold Cas just a little bit closer. "Yeah. 'Night, babe."

xxXX

Dean knew that it was going to be a bitch of a day almost immediately that morning when they pulled up the drive to where the seventh victim had lived. The driveway was bumpy and sandy and seemed to take forever to get down, and then when they could see a rambly looking house, he had to stop because there was a gate across with a big sign saying 'No Motor Vehicles Past This Point'.

He got out and shut the door. "The hell? We have to walk all the way up there?"

It had to be almost another half a mile of sandy gravel.

Cas and Sam had gotten out, too, and Cas had his nose in the case file. "The victim and her family are very environmental. Maybe they don't want the engine fumes or something."

Dean huffed. "Awesome."

They walked past the gate and started down the lane. Cas started reading.

"Annie Meyers. She's lived here with her husband and daughter for about twenty years."

He stopped to clear his throat. Walking down the path was kicking up dusty sand.

"Like I said. They're environmental. She was part of a group in town that protested pollution, and advocated for protecting the ocean and the sea animals. Her son and daughter are the same way."

Cas coughed again. "Uh, vegan. Extreme vegans. They survive off a farm they have up there," he pointed towards the house. "And they sell parts of their crops."

Dean chuckled. "Sammy, you're gonna fit right in!"

Sam threw a piece of gravel at his back.

They were close enough to see the house better now. It looked like Dr. Frankenstein had built it. There were places obviously built separately from the rest, and chunks were painted different colors, and some of the wood wasn't painted at all. The roof was made up of two separate old trailer roofs hammered together, one an almost rusted through tin and the other blue slats.

Dean shook his head as they got even closer. There was a teen girl sitting outside on the mismatched steps. Her hair had probably been brown, but was a dirty yellow now from being in the sun and was in long dreds. She was leaning over a huge brass tub, scrubbing clothes on one of those old wash boards, like ladies did in old movies.

It was like they had walked onto the set of 'The Waltons'.

Cas cleared his throat again, this time to get the chicks' attention. She jumped and looked up, then got a really suspicious look on her face.

"Excuse me. Are you Gaia Meyers?"

She stood up wiping her hands off on one of those long hippie skirts.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

Dean huffed. People just kept getting ruder and ruder on this case. "F.B.I. We're looking into your mother's death."

She looked unimpressed. "We have had to deal with too many police officers already. Barging in on us, trespassing with their disgusting cars and getting exhaust all over the crops. You need to leave now."

Gaia started stomping off around the house, but Sam immediately followed her. "So, you aren't interested in finding out what happened to your mom?"

She stopped and glared at him. "No. It's in the hands of the Lord."

Dean glanced at Cas and just caught him rolling his eyes. "That sounds a little suspicious, don't you think? Your lack of cooperation might be seen as you hiding something."

She just glared even harder. "I found her, okay? It was _clearly_ not done by something natural. I didn't do anything. Leave, please."

Gaia kept walking away, so Sam yelled at her back. "Fine. We can go get a warrant, and more police will come. They'll arrest you for obstructing justice."

She slowed down, but kept moving. "They don't have vegetarian options in jail!"

That made her stop and huffed up at the sky.

"Fine. What do you want?"

Sam grinned in victory and caught up with her. "Just what you saw."

Gaia glared at all three of them. "I went into town, where I go every week to sell the eggs." She waved towards a chicken coop.

"I was gone three or four hours. When I left, Annie was working in the garden. When I got back she was dead."

Gaia shrugged. "That's it."

Cas was looking at pictures. "And you found her under that tree?"

He pointed at a tall, ancient oak tree draped in Spanish moss. "Yeah."

She suddenly looked shifty. "Okay. The police didn't notice this, and, honestly, I didn't either until a couple of days ago. I didn't think it was important."

She led them to the tree and stood on a patch of roots that were raising up. "I found her here. She was facing away from the trunk, so this was right behind her."

Gaia ran her hand over a place on the tree near the bottom and they leaned over to look. A symbol was charred onto the bark, a little smaller than Dean's palm.

He squinted at it. "Isn't that that french thing?"

"Fleur-de-lis," Sammy and Cas corrected at the same time.

Dean huffed. "Okay. What does it mean?"

They all straightened up. "It has a lot of different connotations."

Sam had taken his phone out and snapped a few pictures. "Thank you for showing us this."

Cas turned to the girl. "Tell us about your mother."

Gaia shrugged. "She had a set schedule. We all do. Annie did the garden work in the mornings, then if there were any extra crops she would bike into town and sell them, then she'd go meet her friends. That was always on a Tuesday. She'd be gone into the late afternoon, sometimes into the evening."

Sam had put his phone away. "Did she always use the same bike?"

"Yeah. Over here."

Gaia pointed them to an old fashioned bicycle. It was dusty and dirty and starting to rust like part of the roof, and there were still a few green painted places and a little basket on the handlebars. Sam took pictures of the bike, too.

Dean poked through the wicker basket. There was a pouch with spare change in it, a paperback book with some weird title, a few folded handkerchiefs, and a receipt from a farmer's market. He picked it up, and another receipt fell out from behind it. He picked it up and shoved it in his pocket, making sure Gaia didn't see.

"Guys, I think we can go."

Sam and Cas had been poking around in the weeds next to the house. Gaia looked surprised. "That's it? Those policemen stayed for hours."

Dean smiled, trying to put on some charm. The girl seemed jumpy. "We won't bother you anymore. I can tell you have things to take care of."

The girl actually smiled. "Thank you. God bless."

She went back to the big washing pot and they started back to the lane. As soon as they got far enough away, Dean pulled the paper out of his pocket.

"Look what I found."

Sam snatched it. "Grey's Hamburger and Biscuit Emporium?"

Cas grabbed it from Sam. "One large triple decker bacon cheeseburger, double order of onion rings, and a large Fanta orange?"

"Weird stuff for a vegan to be eating. I think we need to check this place out."

XxxX

Grey's was a small place, obviously a local or regional fast food restaurant. On the sign outside where they usually advertised specials, the big block letters read 'PEACE LOVE BISCUITS'.

Dean looked impressed. "Those must be damn good biscuits. Hey, we need to…"

Sam shook his head. "Dean, we're trying to find out what killed this lady."

"She ate here. It could have been the food. Shouldn't we try it out? I'll take one for the team, Sammy."

Sam led the way inside. There were about four old men sitting at a table drinking coffee, and a forcibly cheerful looking woman stood at the register.

"Good morning! My name is Lynn, how may I help you today?"

Sam leaned on the counter. "We need to ask some questions about a customer here."

Lynn pointed. "Those guys? They practically live here."

"No." Cas pulled out a picture of Annie Meyers, an older one, not the petrified version. "Do you know this woman?"

She leaned over. "Oh. Two Wheel Tuesday?"

They all looked at each other. "Two Wheel Tuesday?"

"Yeah. Every week, like clockwork, she'd show up on Tuesday between one and one thirty. Always on her bicycle. And she ordered the same thing every time. We'd see her coming and got it ready, and she'd have the exact change in her hand when she came in. Triple decker bacon cheeseburger, double side of onion rings, and a large Fanta orange."

Sam double checked the receipt. "Exactly the same."

Lynn shook her head. "Something happened, didn't it? She's missed the last three Tuesdays."

Cas nodded. "I'm afraid so."

The lady sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that. She was so nice to everyone. Never complained, always had a good word to say. I'll miss seeing her around."

"Thanks for your time."

They left the restaurant, Dean sadly without any food, and they got in the car.

"Okay, so the vegan checked of the wagon and had a fried food binge every week. That fits in with the others, right?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. But this woman seemed like a good person. Some of these deaths are extreme. I mean, the kid and animal abusers I can understand. This is over-kill."

Cas was staring down at his phone; Sam had sent the pictures to him. "There has to be some kind of significance that we're all missing. There is _something_ here."

Dean turned around. "We'll get it eventually. Maybe it's just gonna be a wild goose chase. Who knows?"

Sam snatched the bag with all the files from the back seat. "The only way to know is to look into the others."

Dean pulled out of the parking space. "Okay. Where next?"

Sam shuffled around. "UNC Wilmington. Twenty two years old, living on campus. Pi Kappa Alpha. He was about to get his Major in Philosophy."

He paused to laugh. "Yeah, that would've gotten him really far. He was involved in a war protest group at the school, and went to a bunch of rallies and stuff. His roommate…"

Sam squinted at the paper. "Quang found him when he got back from his last class at eight o'clock. And he was all petrified like the others. The roommate is really supersticious. He grabbed all his stuff from the dorm room and swore he was never going back in."

Before too long they were pulling into a spot near the campus building where the fraternity house was. A map had been tucked in the file, so they at least knew where they were going.

Dean couldn't help it. "Hey, check it out. Their mascot is 'Sammy the Seahawk'."

"No."

"What? I didn't…"

"No."

"Come on, they got hats!"

"_No!_"

They found Quang in the living room, bent over a massive pile of books.

When they told him they were FBI and looking into what happen to Phil, the poor kid looked like he was about to cry. Phil was an amazing roommate. He was quiet, kept out of the way, he was always nice, blah blah. Just about like almost every one of the others.

The only bad thing Quang had to say about Phil was that he'd get angry about his parents. Now they couldn't get him to shut up, and he told them all about how Phil's mom and dad were big into peace movements and he felt like he was forced into the protesting, and they also made him go into the Philosophy program. He'd wanted to do something else with his life, but Phil never told him what it was.

When Dean was finally able to get him to stop talking, Quang pointed them towards the room, but he wouldn't come in with them. He was still terrified to go back in there.

It just looked like a messy bedroom. Quang's stuff was already out since he'd more or less moved, so it was pretty easy to tell what belonged to Phil Cooper. They started rooting around, just like they'd had to do at almost all these 'crime scenes'.

Sam found it this time. "I got a bill from a storage building."

Dean looked at it. "Okay. So he's probably hiding something there. We'll need the key."

Cas ran his hand over a dresser next to the door. "I think these are his."

He took one of the keys and fit it in the lock on the door. "And this big one must be a car key. So this last one…"

Dean took the keys. "Yep. Number 243 and 243 on the key. Let's go."

Bridle's Storage Units was a fifteen minute drive away, and 243 was easy to find. The key fit right in and Sam pushed the hanger door up.

Well. At least it was more interesting than Mrs. Hamburgler.

Sam pulled the light on. "What the hell?"

Cas was looking around. "I don't understand. What is all this stuff?"

There were several flags hanging up on the walls, all older looking with German and Latin mottos; and photos and books filling up a big bookcase. A few of the photos had Phil in them, happily involved in book burnings. There were also stacks of magazines.

Cas picked one up. "'National Socialist Movement'?"

Sam was at the bookcase. "Neo-Nazi. 'The Doctrine of Fascism', 'Mein Kampf'…Plus the magazine subscription. No wonder he fought with his parents. He _definitely_ wanted to go in a different direction than his folks."

Dean had gone over and thought he saw something behind one of the flags. He tore it down and sighed. "Hey, look at this."

A large patch of the wall was covered in the same white powder that they'd seen yesterday. But instead of a circle, it was in the same fleur-de-lis pattern they'd seen on Annie Meyers' tree.

"What in the _hell_ is going on guys?"

xxXX

Sam had read off directions to the next place, and Dean asked again. "What does this Fleur whatever mean?"

Sam pulled his phone out. "It's stupid, because it can mean so many different things. Whatever is doing this, if it's leaving clues, they're the _worse_ clues ever. The Fleur-de-lis is a lily. Used on countless coats of arms and European monarchies. It's attributed to the Virgin Mary, the Holy Trinity…They're all over the rails at Buckingham Palace…New Orleans Saints…The freakin' Boy Scouts."

"So…An ancient symbol and funky coffee powder. It's all we got?"

Cas spoke up. "Also the blue light and the Stigmata marks on the victims. This is some kind of religious, supernatural vigilante."

Dean rubbed at his head; he was getting a bitch of a headache trying to follow all of this bullshit. He really, _really_ missed Bobby. You know, more than usual.

Their never-ending search for 'Holy Hypocrites, Batman!' led them yet again into the bowels of suburbia. Pretty houses, perfect yards, the smell of pecan pie lingering in the air. It still made Dean uncomfortable.

Sam read out of the folder as they drifted down the street, on the look-out for slow children at play.

"Uh, Linda Johnson. Soccer mom. Husband Doug, daughter age six named Stacey, shut up Dean."

Dean huffed. "Her neighbor Nora found her. She saw water coming down the driveway and went to check. Linda was watering the plants at the side of the house when it hit her."

Dean pulled into the driveway and a guy in a suit came out to meet them. Dean wasn't going to deny that he found some men attractive (Doctor Sexy), but all his attention had been on Cas for a while. But this guy…just _damn_. He looked like a dude off one of those chick sexy books.

"You're the men from the FBI?"

Sam had called ahead, and Mr. Johnson was in a hurry. "Yes, sir."

"Feel free to look around. I left everything unlocked, this neighborhood is safe. I have a meeting then I have to pick up Stacey. Nora will come over soon to talk to you."

He was in his car a driving off in just a few seconds.

They let themselves in. Predictably it was a nice place, very very clean, everything brand new and modern. Not a touch of personalization to be found. They did their snooping for a few minutes until there was a knock at the door and Nora let herself in.

"Yeah, Linda and I knew each other pretty well. Stacey and my son Todd were in the same class at school. Linda was the president of the P.T.A."

Nora rolled her eyes. "She was perfect, you know? Brought cookies to every meeting, they were, like, Betty Crocker perfect. Always looked and acted classy. And you've seen Doug."

She actually licked her lips. "Everyone both loved and hated her. We called her 'Mrs. Robinson', like the song."

Nora shifted. "The only thing was…She was constantly protesting and arguing with the school board. She saw occult references and satanic things everywhere. She hated anything to do with science. Stacey wasn't even allowed to make one of those volcanos for class because 'volcano' was named for 'Vulcan' and she couldn't endorse paganism."

She looked more than annoyed. "I can't speak ill of the dead. But still…Let's just say the school board was more than a little relieved. I think poor Mrs. Simon was about to start clapping."

Sam gently shooed Nora out and they kept on looking.

"Dean, Sam. Come here." Cas called them from the kitchen. He was standing at a cupboard door.

"This is the only door in the house that is locked."

Sam frowned. "There isn't a lock."

Cas turned the knob and pushed, but nothing happened. "See?"

As it turned out, that door was extremely locked. There was nothing to pick, the screws wouldn't come out of the doorknob or the hinges, even after Dean went and got a power drill from the garage. The last try was taking an axe to it, but the pre-fab wood wasn't even scratched.

They stood staring at it, like the force of all of them glaring would make the door open, when Cas made a little jump.

"I am so stupid!"

Sam was still just looking at the door. "Huh?"

Cas put his hand on the doorknob and said something under his breath. It must have been an Enochian word, because there was a click and it swung open.

Sam looked exasperated. "What? That's all it was?"

Cas shrugged. "It was guarded by some kind of magic. I guess magic was the only way to make it open again, since the caster is dead."

Dean had gotten out a flashlight and they started down the dusty wooden stairway that had been right behind the magic door. "What, you think this Linda chick magicked her door?"

The stairs led down, much further than the foundations of the house. Before long, they were in a long tunnel leading out into a rocky cavern.

They all looked around. "Hey, didn't this lady hate Satanism?"

Sam was leaning over a black alter. "Uh, yeah. Maybe it wasn't that she hated it, but she didn't like it's representation in the media?"

The cavern was full of witchy stuff. Stacks of dusty old books that Sam eagerly stashed in the pack they'd carried with them, herbs only used in spell casting, gross stuff that Dean didn't want to know about, alters, ingredients to make all kinds of hex bags.

Cas was looking over the same alter Sam had been studying. "Well, this explains her good fortunes. In her file it says she grew up in a poorer family. After high school things started changing. She was a C student, but she got into Harvard and passed with perfect grades. Successful business woman, married a very wealthy man, had a, by all accounts, perfect daughter. Perfect life."

Sam was rooting around now. "Some of this stuff, though. It's not just for good luck. She took out anything or anyone in her way."

Dean had gone over and pulled a dark purple sheet off a table and sighed. "Yeah, and I don't think she worked alone."

Cas and Sam came over. There was another alter, looking almost the same as the one used by Sue-Ann Le Grange, complete with a Coptic cross. Sam poked back through the books he'd grabbed and pulled one out.

"She was controlling a Reaper?"

"Is that it then? Could a Reaper be doing all this, I mean, we know they can alter realities."

Dean and Sam both looked at Cas. "It's…Possible, I guess."

"But?"

Cas shrugged. "All the religious overtones. It's weird, it doesn't _fit_."

Sam huffed. "What about all this crap _isn't_ weird?"

Dean started grabbing what he needed from around the room and setting them up on an empty table.

"Uh, dude, what are you doing?"

He sighed. "Something I would really, really like to not be doing."

A few minutes later, Crowley appeared in his customary flash.

"Hello, boys. I hope this is good; I was in Fiji."

He turned and grinned at Cas. "You're looking better. I guess I should let you know your two angel friends are thoroughly enjoying themselves. The screaming is _fantastic_."

Sam rubbed his head. "Do you know what's going on here?"

Crowley looked around the cavern. "A very ambitious housewife?"

"In general, you dick."

He shrugged. "Really, I don't know. I put feelers out when they found the first one, but it's a mystery."

Crowley put his hands up. "My hand to God, though. It isn't me or any of mine."

They all three looked at each other. Dean shook his head.

"It was a long shot." He glanced over at Crowley.

"Head back to Fiji."

Crowley was staring at Cas. "This _humanity_…"

He said it like the word made him want to vomit. "…thing. It's a massive inconvenience."

He huffed. "I am feeling unreasonably compelled to apologize to you. About Meg. I know she liked you and…"

Dean and Sam didn't see what happened, but one second Crowley was standing there looking the close to honestly contrite as his face could manage, and the next he had been flung up into the top of the cavern and back down again.

Cas was swaying a little, and Dean remembered what he had said about using Enochian words and what power they had and how much energy they took to use. Crowley just hopped back up, dusting his coat off.

"I probably deserved that. But in my defense…"

Cas was cold. "You aren't wanted. Leave."

Crowley looked around to Dean and Sam and just nodded. "Well. Good seeing you. Hope it doesn't happen again too soon."

And, as usual, he was gone a blink later.

XXxx

Cas was quiet and sulking in the backseat, the last thing he'd said was to magic the door back shut, so Sam read about their next stop.

"Lady's name was Courtney Collins. She lived in a condo, beach side, with her girlfriend. Her family was crazy rich, and she inherited a lot. Her parents died in a private plane crash about three years ago. Never went to college and she doesn't work, but she volunteers at a soup kitchen."

Sam chuckled. "Paying it forward, I guess. She had stayed behind to clean up the night before, then the owner found her the next morning."

He pulled out a picture and looked closely at it. "She's facing one of those cork announcement boards they pin papers up on. Wonder what's up with that."

Dean swung into a parking spot outside the kitchen. "Let's go find out."

They all got out of the car, and Dean noticed Cas was still off. "Sammy, go on in. We'll be right behind."

Sam nodded, still squinting at the photo.

"Hey. You okay, man?"

Cas leaned on the side of the car. "Tired. I told you before. Using Enochian spell words…"

"I didn't mean that."

Dean leaned next to him. "Come on. What's up?"

He didn't answer for a few minutes. "Crowley has done a lot of terrible things before. And I am willing to partially forgive him for most of those things after all he did to help with getting rid of Ruth."

Cas paused. "But I can never forgive him for Meg. I know…You guys hated her, and for good reasons…"

Dean interrupted. "Hey. I didn't hate Meg there towards the end. Like you said, I probably never would have forgiven her about what happened with Jo and Ellen. But she took care of you. She helped us take out Dick. She was cool."

He put his arm around Cas' shoulders, trying to lighten the mood. "I let her drive my _car_. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Cas managed a smile. "You let her _wreck_ your car."

He sighed. "She was my best friend when you couldn't be. So, he just hit a sore spot."

He rubbed at his head. "I gotta remember not to do that unless it's a life or death thing. It just feels natural now that I know I can do it."

Dean thought of something. "Hey. Can I do that kind of stuff?"

Cas snorted. "I think it must be a remnant of my Grace being in this body. Like I have memories of things as far back as creation, and I know languages that people don't even know exist yet. Enochian to you won't be the same."

He bent down and picked up a plastic green bead that must have come off a bracelet or something and put it in his palm, then said something. The bead floated up an inch or so.

"Hey, you just said…"

Cas laughed. "Floating a piece of plastic isn't the same as flinging a man up in the air. Here."

He handed Dean the bead and talked him through the word. Dean tried it about four or five times but nothing happened. Cas was looking smug, and Dean didn't like it.

"Look, I'm gonna get it eventually. You think you're something cool but you aren't. Let's get inside."

He shoved the bead in his pocket and led the way in. Sammy was easy to find; he was standing in the kitchen with a bald guy who must be the manager in front of the cork board he'd been interested in.

"Mr. Stangerson, these are my partners. Could you mind telling them what you just told me?"

The man was fidgeting, jumpy. "Courtney was a _good_ girl. She was so nice. I couldn't believe what I saw that morning…I don't think I could ever forget it."

He dabbed at his eyes. "She was just…so full of life."

Sam turned to the board. "And what is this board usually used for?"

Mr. Stangerson straightend up. "Oh, missing persons. So many homeless people come through here, then some disappear. It's very unfortunate. Someone will come in and report a friend is gone and we'll put up a flier, just in case. A lot of times it will be children."

He shook his head. "Courtney helped out the best she could."

Sam nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Stangerson. We'll let you get back to work."

The man sniffled and walked off. Sam turned around and snapped a picture of the cork board. "Every one of these attacks has been because someone is guilty of something or other. I think it's gotta mean something that Courtney Collins was found here, facing _this_ board."

Dean shrugged. "Probably. I guess we should go to the apartment. Talk to the girlfriend?"

XxxX

The records hadn't been kidding when they said the girl was rich. Despite some of the houses they had seen so far, the large condo building was by far the nicest, and it was right next to the beach.

Courtney's girlfriend, Jilly was there to answer the door. There were a lot of brown packing boxes all over. "Sorry about the mess."

She sighed. "No way I can afford this place myself, and I don't really want to stay…without…"

Jilly trailed off. Cas noticed a large photo album on a side table. The front was embossed with Hebrew letters.

"May I?" He'd interrupted something Sam was asking, but the girl nodded.

"Sure. That was from when she went to Jerusalem, after her folks died. Her dad was Jewish, and he'd always wanted to go."

Cas didn't pay much attention to what else was said as he flipped through the pictures. He recognized the landscapes, some buildings, amusing historically inaccurate tourist locations. Then he came across some pictures of places not usually visited by tourists.

Cas made himself focus back in on the conversation behind him.

"Her life was that soup kitchen. When people who usually came there went missing, it broke her heart. Especially the kids. She loved kids."

Jilly sighed. "The only other place she went to a lot was some property she owned out on Carolina Beach. She had a small stretch of land there. Courtney was thinking of maybe building a place there. And she talked about a cave she liked to hang out at. Said it was meditative."

She shrugged. "I never saw the place. But she made it sound…Magical."

Cas shut the photo album. "I think we should go there. Can you write down directions?"

Jilly looked confused, but started writing in a notebook Sam handed to her. "And can we take this?"

Jilly handed the book back to Sam and nodded sadly. "Yeah. I guess so. If you think it could help?"

Cas nodded. "It will. Thank you."

As soon as they got out of the building they turned on Cas. "Dude, what was that about?"

"I have a feeling we're going to find something very bad in that cave."

xxXX

Jilly had written some pretty crappy directions and it took them almost double the time it should have to park on the road and walk along the beach until they found the cave.

It just looked like a normal, rocky cave. Sam and Dean had no idea what Cas might have seen in that photo album to make him think that something bad was going on in here.

They all turned on their flashlights when they got in, and the cave stretched back further under the sand dunes than it really looked like it should.

"Hey." Sammy had stopped. "Look. Coffee stuff."

He was pointing up at the rocks on the ceiling, and sure enough, powdered were the words 'Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate'.

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here," Sam read.

"Well. She didn't put that up there."

Dean shook his head. "What? Is this supposed to be another 'helpful' clue?"

Cas led on ahead. "Maybe it's a warning."

The cave opened up into a cavern smaller than the one under Linda Johnson's house.

It reeked of old blood and charred skin. There was a pretty good sized fire pit in the middle of the room, filled with ashes and small blackened skeletons. Ancient symbols were painted on the walls, but not in the white powder.

"Cas," Dean's voice shook. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

He nodded. "Hell."

"More specific please?"

Cas did that thing where he quoted from the Bible. "'Topheth has long been prepared; it has been made ready for the king. Its fire pit has been made deep and wide, with an abundance of fire and wood; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of burning sulfur, sets it ablaze.'"

He looked around. "Topheth is a section of the Valley of Hinnom, also called Gehenna. It was where the idea of Hell came from. Topheth was named because of the screams of the children who were sacrificed there. So the land was cursed."

Cas gestured around. "They would sacrifice children by way of fire to tribute gods. In this case, I think Courtney was worshiping Moloch."

Sam looked like he might be sick. "But where…"

He pulled out his phone. "Oh, God. The missing kids. She knew homeless kids and snatched them, then brought them here."

Cas held up the album. "She went to Jerusalem. There are pictures in here of some ruins I recognized from that valley. She must have met some people who still work the old rituals."

He shrugged. "She'd just suffered a tragic loss. Maybe…she was vulnerable. Open to suggestions?"

Sam nodded, looking at the symbols. "And she brought it back with her."

Dean was still staring at the fire pit. "We gotta destroy this place."

xXxX

It was a few hours later. Dean had had to make some calls, one involving a long conversation with Garth, but he'd managed to get everything he needed to cause a massive cave in.

Cas was in the middle of giving him directions to the next victim's house, when Dean just shot into a parking lot. Sam groaned.

"Come on, dude. The 'peace love biscuit' joint?"

Dean was already out of the car. "It is way past lunch time, and I'm starving. Besides, I still say it would be better to get into this woman's head. We _need_ to eat here. Think of the dead vegan, Sammy."

Sam and Cas ended up ordering something different, but Dean made sure to order Two-Wheel Tuesday's meal.

Cas brought the next person's file in with them.

"The man's name was Caleb Galloway. Late twenties, lived with his mother…"

Dean snorted and Cas ignored him. "Both very devout Jehovah's Witnesses. She found him in front of the sink in the kitchen; he'd been washing dishes."

Sam pulled the file away. "That's it?"

He shrugged. "He seemed to have a very simple life. He didn't work, his mother is very wealthy. The whole family seems very wealthy."

Sam flipped the file shut and slid it back over. "Okay, so we head to this guy's house."

XxxX

It wasn't as nice as some of the other places they'd been, but it was quiet and peaceful. Just on the other side of the street was an older looking trailer park.

Mrs. Galloway was older than they'd expected.

"Caleb was my miracle. George and I prayed and prayed and I was in my forties when Jehovah blessed us. He was such a good boy."

She stopped and dabbed under her eyes, mascara coming off. "I don't know what could have happened."

"Did Caleb have anyone else he was close to, friends, a girlfriend…"

Mrs. Galloway shook her head. "Just a few young people from the Kingdom Hall. Jeff, Alex. There was a girl, Diane. Her mother and I tried and tried to get them together, but…"

She shrugged. "I have his phone. He'd have all his friends in it, wouldn't he?"

Sam nodded. "That would be helpful, thanks."

Mrs. Galloway pulled it from a side drawer next to her chair, then left the room.

Sam turned it on and huffed. "Passcode."

Cas read out his birthday, his mother's birthday, the phone number. After about twelve tries, it ended up being '1234'.

Sam scrolled through his contacts. "Mother, Uncle, Uncle, Jeff, Alex, Diane…Lily? She didn't mention a Lily."

Cas wrote her number down and Sam locked the phone back as Mrs. Galloway came back from the kitchen. He thanked her and they left.

Cas dialed the number from the backseat.

"Hello? Is this Lily? Yes, I'm calling to ask if you know a Caleb…"

He was cut off. "Yes. We're looking into it. FBI, yes ma'am. Can I have your address?"

Cas looked out the window and frowned. "Sandy Circle Trailer Park?"

It was the park right across the street.

Lily looked like she was Caleb's age, and she was very, very pregnant. "Thank you for coming over, and for not letting Caleb's mom know you were meeting with me."

Sam shook his head. "You know each other?"

Lily smiled sadly. "I used to play over there every day. Caleb and me were best friends when we were little. We got into high school and stuff starting changing."

She nodded towards the house that was out of sight. "We wanted to start dating, but his Momma went so far as to file a restraining order so we couldn't see each other."

"Why?"

Lily grimaced. "I'm not 'in the truth'. I couldn't contaminate her son."

She smiled again. "But Caleb was stubborn. And a good man. We went behind her back and saw each other anyway. We were gonna elope, but…"

She patted her stomach. "Caleb knew he'd be taken out of his Momma's will. And he wanted that money so our daughter and us would be secure. So we were going to wait."

Lily nodded again. "You met the old lady. It might not have taken long. But then…"

She rubbed her belly again. "No one told me. I had to find out from a friend who works at the hospital about what happened."

Sam patted her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry. We're trying to find out what caused this."

The young lady smiled. "Thank you."

xXxX

Sam was jiggling his leg up and down. "Last one. This is the last one. Maybe it'll have more answers. This _has_ to be the one with the answers."

Cas flipped through the file in the backseat. "I highly doubt it."

Sam looked at him in the rearview mirror and stuck his tongue out. Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, Cas, what's the deal on this one?"

"She was a member of a group of women. They call themselves a sisterhood, but they aren't related. It looks like they follow a Buddhist way of life. They share a piece of land and each have a trailer there. Seven of them in total. She was found inside her trailer when one of the 'sisters' came to get her for breakfast."

It was out of town, but not nearly as far out as the Meyers' house. Like Cas had described, there were seven trailers parked in a big circle, with what looked like a bonfire spot in the middle. All the trailers were painted bright colors and it just seemed like a mini-hippie commune.

A tall, willowy middle-aged woman came out to meet them.

"Hello, ma'am, we're…"

"You are here to try and find out what happened to Sister Jade."

She nodded. "Marie Norris, her given name. You're going to tell me who you are. It is a lie. Feel free to move around as you please."

The other five women had joined her. Dean was a little weirded out. "I am Sister Vastra. This is Sister Delia…"

She was a lot happier looking than this Vastra lady.

"Sister Milda…" She had a vacant look and was smiling gently."

"Sister Brigitta…" This chick had to be at least as tall as Sam and reminded Dean more than a little of Lydia.

"Sister Kara…" She was tiny and had huge gold curls.

"And Sister Risa. She found Sister Jade."

Dean was definitely freaked out now. This was the same Risa from that alternate future than Dean tried not to think about. She looked exactly the same. Maybe softer, not as hard in the eyes, but it was the same woman.

She glared a little and Dean realized he was staring. Sam said something to her, and she started towards Jade's trailer.

"…Sister Jade was good. She was smart and funny. She saw so much…She was transcending higher and farther than the rest of us."

Risa swung the door open and let them in, not following them. "I hope you find what you are looking for."

The door shut behind them. It was a small trailer, just a front room with a bed and a dresser, then a tiny kitchen area and a small round table with two chairs.

"Dude, what was that about?"

Sam looked at Dean while he started going through the things on top of the dresser.

"What?"

"That Risa chick."

Dean ignored him and went to look through stuff in the kitchen. Cas followed him.

"You looked like you saw a ghost." He whispered so Sam wouldn't hear.

"Remember that freak future that Zack zapped me too?"

Cas nodded, going through stuff under the sink. "She was there."

He just nodded again. Dean knew Cas wouldn't make him talk about shit he didn't want to talk about.

"Hey, guys?"

Sam was holding up a piece of paper. "They kinda look like stamps."

Dean snorted, getting it now. "No wonder she was 'transcending'."

He took the paper. "They aren't stamps. It's a LSD blotter. You peel one off and put it on your tongue and turn off."

Sam rolled his eyes and snatched it back. "Okay. Let's go. Buddhist, not supposed to use brain-morphing chemicals, got it. I guess that's it."

They went back outside where the others were standing around. Sam went up to Sister Vastra.

"Do you know what this is?"

She took the blotter from him and looked at it, the others looking over her shoulders. "No. I've not seen this before. Does it have to do with Sister Jade's death?"

Sam opened his mouth, but caught Cas barely shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. "No idea. We're going to take it to, uhm, experts. To find out."

She nodded, but looked suspicious. They headed back to the car.

XXxx

Four hours later and they were sitting around the table in their motel room, still staring at the papers and photos, and all the 'clues' they'd gotten. They'd stuck maps, pins, notes, and strings on almost half of the room's walls. Print outs from histories, legends, local stories, you name it, and they still had _nothing_.

Cas had called Lizzy again, but she had nothing new to tell him. They'd gone back to the morgue and rechecked all the bodies but there were no changes. Dean and Sam had checked in with half the contacts from Bobby's and John's journals, just to see.

They were sitting, just looking blankly at nothing, all of them brain dead, when Dean's phone went off, making them all jump.

"Hello."

He grinned. "Hey, Benny. What's up?"

Whatever Benny was saying, it made Dean look confused. "Why? What's going…Benny?"

Dean put his phone down and stood up. Sam turned to watch him. "Hey, what was that about?"

"Just said to turn on the T.V."

'_Breaking news. We are broadcasting this live, and we can assure this is no hoax. Las Vegas police and state officials have no explanation, but they are now working to evacuate the city as effiently as they can._'

'_Mass hysteria is rampant in the streets. People are fleeing Las Vegas in droves, out of the shadow of the mountain. There have already been over one hundred lootings of businesses. Many have shut themselves in churches, some believing that this is the end._'

They stared at the screen, not really able to believe what they were seeing, and that was saying something. A mountain, an honest to God, huge-ass mountain was hovering over Las Vegas.

Mountain. Hovering. Vegas.

Cas shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"Dude, no one can."

"No. I know who's doing all this." He turned the T.V off and sat at the foot of one of the beds.

"The ancient manuscripts that eventually were translated and made into the Book of Exodus. People translate them in different ways. One translation in certain versions of the Quran says that, instead of the Hebrews camping at the foot of Mount Sinai, they camped _under_ it."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Moses went to talk to God…Well, he thought it was God. It was the messenger of God."

Dean sat on the other bed. "An angel."

"Yeah. Moses could hear his true voice and not, you know, explode. Well, he wanted the Hebrews to follow God's word, and if anyone didn't they would all be punished."

Cas shrugged. "So, this messenger thought it would be..._funny_, to raise the mountain and threaten to drop it if anyone disobeyed."

Sam sat next to Cas. "So you think this is the same angel?"

"It matches. The floating mountain. These victims…Some of them got their just desserts, wouldn't you say?"

Sam groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Dean was just confused.

"What? Who is it?"

"It isn't possible. But he's the only one I can think of."

Cas sighed. "The Trickster. Gabriel."

Just as Cas said that, the front door to their motel room popped open, and Gabriel himself jumped in, blowing on one of those flimsy plastic kazoos they give to kids at parties. He was just as over exuberant as Dean had last seen him. Or, around when he'd last seen him. Technically, he was dead then.

Speaking of which….

"Dude. Why aren't you dead?"

Gabriel deflated and looked annoyed. "That's all I'm getting? Seriously? No applause? Weeping hysterics? Nothing?"

Cas was glaring daggers at him. "So this _was_ all you, wasn't it?"

Gabriel sighed and sat in one of the chairs. "Yeah, obviously. They were _supposed_ to be clues, dumbasses. Hunters?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You should have worked out that this was me a long time ago…."

Gabriel spluttered and coughed. Sam had tossed holy water in his face.

"What the hell?"

Sam shrugged. "Gotta be safe. We saw you, man. You know, with the charred wings and stuff."

"You're being really insensitive, guys. I'm still mourning myself."

He looked over at Cas, and Dean did too. Cas was just sitting there looking like he'd been punched in the face.

"Cas?"

He looked over at Dean, then at Gabriel. "There's only two things that could resurrect an archangel."

Gabriel gave a little bow. "You've probably put all the other pieces together now, too. Come on, walk the plebeians through it."

"Hey!"

Gabriel just ignored them. "Come on, Cas. Try and impress me."

Cas was at least looking a little annoyed. "God brought him back."

"What? God? _The_ God?"

Gabriel was still focused on Cas. "How are you putting up with these guys?"

He ignored him. "Yes, Sam. God. He would have put Gabriel up to these antics. To get our attention. He or Gabriel couldn't just come out and say 'hey'. It's not His way."

Gabriel nodded. "Keep going."

"It's been a test, this whole thing. To see if we could figure out that God was behind it."

Dean was really confused. "Wait, hold on. If God has been doing this, which I seriously don't believe, then why is Gabriel here?"

Cas look over at him. "Gabriel must have been part of His plan. It was probably a test for him, too."

Gabriel nodded. "So far, so right, little brother."

"He gave Lizzy a way to find us and tip us off. He was able to keep himself hidden, so we couldn't have figured it out that way. He purposefully made all the killings look biblical…"

He interrupted. "Hey, give me and Dad some credit. They aren't dead. Just in a kind of…_stasis_. They're waking up and healing now as we speak."

"But why them," Sam sounded confused. "I mean, some of them really had it coming, but…"

Gabriel sighed. "I came to hundreds of people. In dreams, and stuff. These were just the first twelve who didn't admit what they were doing wrong."

He shrugged. "So, I stopped at twelve. Because…"

"Twelve, the number of apostles."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and nodded at Cas. "Right. Marks of the Stigmata, all that good stuff."

"How in the hell were we supposed to guess that was _you_?"

Cas sighed. "Because he was the angel who came to Mary and told her that her baby would be a savior."

Gabriel clicked his tongue. "Chick was _hot_."

Sam sighed. "Well, then, what about that coffee stuff?"

Cas shook his head. "It's stupid. And a huge and ridiculous leap, even for you."

Gabriel just smiled. "I thought it was funny."

"Ethiopia. Coffee that comes from Ethiopia. There is a somewhat significant church there devoted to Saint Gabriel."

Gabriel spread his hand wide. "It's the Trickster in me, what can I say?"

"And then the Fleur-de-lis. Commonly associated with Mary."

"I thought that after all that, I would have made it obvious. But you guys needed to figure out it was me, and we both over estimated your brain power."

He sighed. "So I needed to do something drastic."

Cas stood up abruptly. "Put that mountain back. Now."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. I staged the whole thing. Fake phone call, fake news show…I wasn't _actually_ gonna float a mountain around. I'm here to get _your_ attention, not put the fear of God in people."

Dean started pacing. He was getting antsy. "You got our attention. Now what?"

Gabriel crossed his arms and actually looked a little nervous. "He wants to see you guys. All three of you."

"No."

Dean looked over at Cas; he'd turned a pale-ish grey color and was shaking his head.

"No. He's going to kill me, I'm not going."

Gabriel patted him on the shoulder. "He does not want to kill you, Cas. Just talk, okay?"

He shrugged. "Besides…I mean, if He wanted to kill you, He'd just snatch you up, right? You're good, bro, don't worry."

Cas was actually shaking. Gabriel huffed. "Here. You want proof?"

He put a hand on the side of Cas' head and his eyes went all glossy and vacant. After a minute he shook the hand off. He still looked scared, but not as pale. "Okay, fine."

Cas looked between Dean and Sam. "I don't think any of us is getting killed."

"Awesome."

Gabriel clapped his hands. "We all on the same page? Good."

He opened the bathroom door. "Go in."

Sam was understandably skeptical. "God is hiding in our bathroom?"

"Just go in."

xxXX

It was like the huge white space in 'The Matrix'. The only thing in the room was a patio table with four mismatched chairs and an empty tray in the middle. One of the chairs already had someone in it, but he stood up when they came in.

Dean looked behind him. Both the bathroom door and Gabriel were gone.

"Chuck?"

Sam was staring at the guy. He was just like the last time they'd seen him. Scruffy, ratty jeans and hoodie, whiff of scotch hanging around him.

Dean could feel Cas behind him and he was shaking again. Chuck walked up to them and had the decency to look nervous.

"Uh. Hey, guys. Been a…Oof!"

Dean shook out his hand. "Dean, what the hell?"

He glared at Sam. "I said if we ever found this asshole, I was gonna punch him in the fucking face!"

Sam kept looking at Chuck. "Dude. You can't cuss in front of _God_!"

"Sam, it's okay. Really. I, uh, kinda expected it. You know, being God and stuff."

Chuck didn't look like he'd been hit. "And, also, I invented English, so there are no words I haven't heard. Come on and sit down."

Dean muttered all the way over to one of the chairs a plopped down in it, feeling rightfully sulky. Sam came over next to him and had his you-should-be-ashamed-of-yourself face on.

Chuck was still standing with Cas, who was clearly not moving from where he was standing.

"Castiel, it's going to be okay. I owe all three of you explanations, and that's what's going to happen. I am not going to punish you, I promise. Come on."

Chuck led Cas to the table and they sat down.

He sighed. "Castiel. A long time ago, you told me your story, and you began at the beginning. I'm gonna pay you guys the same respect."

Chuck paused. "So. You know about the Leviathan. My little experiment in creating living beings. That was more than an absolute failure, I think you figured that out. So I dug out Purgatory and put them away."

"They were _chaos_. Pure chaos. So I wanted something of pure _order_. Subservient, obedient. Perfect soldiers."

Chuck looked at Cas. "I'm sorry about that. The way I made the angels was a mistake. At the time I didn't realize it."

He looked around the table. "So I made the humans. And I gave them free will and minds of their own. Then, I made the biggest mistake I could."

Sam interrupted. "You asked the angels to love them."

Chuck sighed and looked tired. "Yeah. To obey them, watch them, care for them. Lucifer was in every right to do what he did."

Sam jumped a little. "Are you serious?"

Chuck smiled. "Absolutely. I asked too much, and I pushed him too far. He got angry at me, so took it out on the humans."

He sighed and reached toward the tray. It looked empty, but Chuck pulled out a glass of scotch. "Help your selves. Just think about what you want and you can pull it off the tray." He toasted them.

"God powers. Freakin' awesome. Anyway. You know Michael booted Lucifer out, and he made Lilith, so I had to dig out space for Hell, along with the Cage. For a long time after that, I kinda hated humans. They broke up the family, caused a civil war. That's what kinda filled the 'wrath' thing."

Chuck grabbed for a refill. "I realized something needed to change. So I left. Just dropped everything and found a cave in the middle of nowhere. I had to think, you know? And, a mind like mine, it takes me a while to work through crap."

He shrugged. "I got stuff settled out, and just as I did, I heard things stirring. Michael and Lucifer were planning on starting up the apocalypse. I guessed that that was something worth staying around for. In every generation of prophets, there's a dummy name, someone who doesn't exist. In this case, his name was Chuck Shurley."

Chuck motioned towards himself. "I am he. He is me."

He gave a weak laugh. "We are the Walrus, coo-coo-ga-chube."

Dean looked over at Cas and he looked really confused. "Later, dude," he whispered.

"Anyway, I started being Chuck. And, uh, I had to write my gospel. You gotta understand, there's a reason real prophets write these things. I'm not a real writer, but I had to get you to find me. Hence, Carver Edlund."

Sam interrupted. "Can you, like, erase those books out of existence?"

Chuck looked embarrassed. "Sorry. I do promise, though, that another prophet is going to rewrite them into something less…craptastic."

He glared at Chuck. "You hit me in the face with a plunger."

Chuck just shrugged. "Story of your life, Sam. Sorry."

He leaned forward. "But I can help with that."

They all looked at each other.

"I can take the demon blood out," he explained.

Sam shook his head. "What? The transfusions after trying to close the Hell Gates didn't take care of that?"

Chuck gave Sam what almost passed for a pitying look. "Of course not. That demon blood would stay in your system even if you were completely drained then filled back up."

"Then what…"

"Hello, God powers. I can purge it. You want me to?"

Sam looked at Dean. "Up to you, man. But I gotta ask…"

Dean turned towards Chuck. "Why are you even asking? I mean, you already know what he's going to say, right? 'God powers'," he mocked.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Still haven't figured it out? Free will _or_ destiny. Why can't it be both."

He looked between the three of them and sighed. "Okay, look. Every single thing you guys did was meant to happen. Every last thing. Up until you, Sam, broke the last seal."

Sam winced a little, still a sore subject. "After that, every decision you guys made was just that. A _decision_. I kept my cover until I saw what that last choice was, for you to jump in the cage. And, I had to put you back together."

Chuck shook his head at Cas. "Nice move, by the way. I was all set to return to Heaven and restore order, but…"

"I ruined it," Cas finally said.

"You didn't ruin anything. I just wanted to see what would happen next. You did your best, Cas. I wanted to see how the others would do, how my first children would act."

He sighed. "I was ashamed. Not at you," Chuck said quickly, waving at Cas. "Like I said, I'm not punishing you."

"The others?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It was worse than the civil war with Lucifer. Kill or be killed? Espionage, factions within factions…I thought better of them all. And I was going to go back and fix things."

Dean huffed and leaned back. "Then the Leviathan."

"Yeah. Those guys." Chuck grinned. "Had to find out, didn't I? And then there was the trials, and Metatron…I got distracted. But now I'm going back. For real."

He grabbed another refill. "Okay. So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to restore the angels. All of them, exactly as they were before Metatron kicked them out or before they died. Every last one, and that includes Michael and Lucifer. We're all going to have a huge family reunion up in Heaven and I'm taking back control."

Chuck sighed. "Heaven is going to be closed off. I mean, for angels. Souls can still come. The only contact they can have with humans is through dreams, and that will be through orders. The angels will be inspirational, giving people ideas. The world is going to change, guys. The things that'll start happening in the next few years, it's gonna be awesome."

"Why are you telling us this?"

He smiled at Sam. "The human race doesn't need angelic protection anymore. The Leviathan getting loose, all the monsters and demons…It is safe to say, the world is safe. Protected by humans. Guys like you. So, I needed to explain stuff to you. Because you deserved to know."

Chuck leaned forward. "I put a lot of crap on you guys. So I needed to give something back."

He held his hand out towards Sam. He looked nervous, but held his arm out and Chuck grabbed it. Bright, electric blue started shooting up his veins and Sam jumped. Dean was about to get up, but Cas grabbed the back of his jacket.

A second later and Chuck let go. Sam was breathing hard, but looking around, like stuff looked different. "Huh."

"Sammy?"

He blinked over towards Dean, kinda sluggish. "Dude. You're all…shiny. And green?"

Dean looked over at Chuck. "The demon blood. Since it's been in him almost his whole life, it'll take him a while to get used to it. But he'll be fine."

Chuck turned towards Cas. "Now. Since you don't have any Grace, you shouldn't be able to do stuff with Enochian. Like blow stuff up and throw people around. But, I'm going to leave that with you. Just, be _careful_ with it."

Cas looked at him like he was crazy. "What?"

Chuck snapped his fingers. "Damn, right. I forgot. Look, you aren't coming back to Heaven. You or Lizzy. Gabriel is telling her now. She's meant to stay here. Her baby is going to be very special. I can't spoil it for you."

Dean cut in. "Now, wait…"

"Dean, if Cas comes back to Heaven as an angel, no warning from me will keep the others from tormenting him. He'd be a pariah. Besides, the only thing you missed about being an angel was your powers, right?"

Cas nodded, looking like he couldn't believe this was happening. "So, I'm giving you part of them back. Also, you'll be getting a gift soon. A friend returned, although maybe not in a way you'd expect."

"Be more vague, would you."

Chuck turned to Dean now in response to his comment. "I think you already know what I've given you."

Dean felt like the floor had dropped away, but he nodded. "Yeah. I get it."

He smiled at Dean. "Okay, then. I think that's that. Time for me and Gabe to get home. He's gotta get ready for his new job."

"You gave Gabriel Michael's position?"

Chuck looked honest-to-God devious. "Yeah. He is super excited about it, too. You guys should probably know; he's going to be the only angel allowed to return to Earth. I can't promise he won't pop in. Randomly."

He touched them all on the shoulders. "Good luck, guys. I'm always around, okay? Even if it doesn't look like I am. Be careful and watch out for each other."

Something popped into Dean's head. "Hey, I gotta question."

"Shoot."

"Why didn't the amulet work?"

Chuck had the gall to actually snort at him. "Seriously? That was a kind of convenient plot device, don't you think? I mean, it'd be like Harry Potter having a Horcrux seeking medallion."

He shrugged. "Sorry, guys."

And just like that, a heartbeat later, and they were standing in the hotel bathroom again.

XxxX

Hours later, after they'd kind of been digesting everything, Sam was still looking at different things like he'd never seen them before. And he'd started crying at a commercial for fabric softener. He kept opening old books and sticking his nose in them. It was just all kinds of weird, and it kept getting weirder until he finally passed out on his bed.

A couple of hours later, Dean and Cas got in their bed, too. Dean had managed to pull up 'Magical Mystery Tour' on Sam's laptop and they watched it. He didn't think Cas really got it, but then, most people who weren't tripping balls didn't get it.

Dean knew Cas was going to ask questions that he really didn't feel like answering when they got settled in and all the lights were turned off.

"So."

Dean sighed. "Do we have to do this?"

"Yep. What did he mean when he said he'd already given you what you wanted?"

Dean shifted, trying to stall. The only thing making this easier was that Cas wasn't at eye level and he couldn't see his face.

"I thought you were going back."

"Back where?"

He rolled his eyes. "Heaven, babe. I thought you were leaving, and he made it so you were staying. I mean, I think he'd make you stay anyway, but…It's kinda what I would have wanted the most."

Cas didn't say anything for a minute. "It's what I wanted the most, too. And I'm glad Lizzy gets to stay too. I want to meet this special child of hers one day."

Dean just hummed and rubbed up and down Cas' back. He was almost asleep but Cas spoke again.

"And I'm happy for Sam."

"Yeah. I'll be happier once he stops talking about how pretty everything is."

He felt Cas laugh a little. After a few minutes, they were both asleep.


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

Dean stared at the outside of the bunker door, even for a few minutes after Sam pulled away again to finish the errands that they had supposed to already been doing. He was still a little iffy about this whole thing, but since Chuck had de-demonified Sam, he was about five hundred percent harder to say no to. He was just so damn _cheerful_. Dean had lost count of how many times he'd threatened to shoot him over the last week, just out of principle.

He finally pushed the bunker door open when the cardboard box next to him rocked and let out a squeak. Dean sighed. "Yeah. Okay, we're gonna go in."

Cas had come into the main room from the library when he heard the door open. He'd stayed behind from grocery shopping because Kevin had called asking for info on some weird spirit he and Garth were going against. "That was fast."

"Sam got distracted."

Cas pointed at the box. "What's that?"

Dean led him back into the library. Books were still stacked around, and Sam's laptop was perched on a pile of papers, with Cas' reading glasses on top. He'd been really ticked off, but a few days after they'd gotten back from Wilmington he'd started getting headaches and Sam had forced them onto his face.

He set the box on a free table. "You know that animal shelter just outside of town? They had a sign out saying that they weren't going to be charging adoption fees today."

Dean looked at Cas and shook his head. "You know how Sam's been. He practically grabbed the wheel to pull over himself."

He sat down and started working on the weird little tabs on the box. "He wanted a dog, but I talked him out of it. No way we can take a dog on the road. If we _had_ to get an animal it had to be something that can take care of its self if we're gonna be gone a long time."

The little tabby cat popped out. "We have mice and spiders and shit. I figured, you know, she can be useful. And she can take care of herself while we're gone. Oh, and she's a shorthair, and I haven't sneezed any yet. So, that's a good thing."

Cas finally sat down across from Dean, just staring at the cat. She was mostly black, with patches of dark brown and tan splashes. It was pretty small, and her yellowish eyes were almost too big for her face.

"I can feel her."

Dean looked up; Cas was still staring. "What?"

"Well, it's not like I used to be able to talk to animals. But I can feel her in my mind, kind of. More like her emotions and how she feels, not in words, exactly. She's confused. But I think she likes the bunker. It smells like…memories?"

Dean huffed. "What did Chuck say? About another gift?"

Cas reached out and the cat sniffed at his hand. "You think this is it?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"So, what's her name?"

"Oh. They had given her some stupid name at the shelter, so we figured you could rename her."

Cas squinted. "I think…She wants a human name?"

"Awesome."

Cas managed to look the cat in her eyes. "Meg?"

Dean slumped in his chair. "You gotta be kidding me. Meg? Really?"

'Meg' was purring. "She likes it, Dean. She should be able to pick her own name."

She jumped off the table and started sniffing around, exploring. Dean glared after her. "I knew there was something funky about you."

Cas snorted. "She knows you just insulted her."

XxxX

Sam thought it was great that they'd picked up the spawn of Satan in the form of a tiny tabby cat. Of course he did. He'd gone overboard at the store, getting way more cat stuff than could possibly be necessary.

By the time he'd gotten home from the store, Dean had already been bitched at twice, the first time for trying to fling holy water at Meg, and the second time for luring her into a Devil's Trap, neither of which did anything.

Of course, Meg loved Sam. He'd brought the treats, after all. To Dean's eventual relief, she disappeared into the bunker, exploring more. He hadn't been lying about the mice thing. The sooner Psycho Cat could make herself useful the better.

That night when Dean and Cas got in bed, Meg jumped in with them, curling up on the pillow above Cas' head. Dean glared at her.

"What are you doing?"

Cas was already half asleep and missed hitting him on the arm. "She likes me, leave her alone."

xxXX

Dean had talked Garth into not asking them to go out on the road for a couple of weeks after they'd gotten back. They'd all agreed to stick with the best guess they'd had, which was a rogue reaper. He'd kept off their backs, but he eventually did call Sam about what seemed like a simple haunting in Wyoming, and there wasn't anyone else to put on it.

Simple haunting?

Well, it _was_ a simple haunting. The problem was that the ghost _doing_ the haunting was a young woman from the early eighteen hundreds, who was a member of one of the first hunting families.

So, when they'd finally tracked down the old, weed-eaten cemetery and started digging up the grave, that's when the trouble started. As a hunter, of course the girl knew what they were up to, and began coming at them. Sam and Dean were digging as fast as they could, and Cas was guarding them, shooting at the girl when she'd pop up.

That just pissed her off even more, so by the time they were almost to her coffin, she was attacking too fast for Cas to keep her off. Dean climbed out of the hole and they were able stop her long enough for Sam to crack open the coffin and jump out to grab the salt and the kerosene.

Dean and Cas were standing on opposite ends of the grave. "Hey. Where'd she go?"

Dean was having a seriously bad feeling, that the creepy chick was up to something. Just as he's said that, Cas went flying backwards into the weeds and Dean heard him hit a tombstone. He instantly turned around, and the ghost was standing behind Sam, who already had the lighter in his hand.

"Sam! Drop!"

He did both, crouching down and dropping the fire onto the bones.

Unfortunately, the girl had one last oomph in her, and the only way Sam was going was forward and down, right into the fiery grave.

Later, if he tried to remember, which he really didn't, Dean couldn't recall much on the details of what happened. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He remembered pulling Sam out of the fire. The smell. Sam screaming and flailing, then going quiet and still, which was even worse.

Dean was just frozen, trying to think about what to do next. Sam was too…burnt to carry to the car, it was too far away. No cell signal. The closest hospital he knew of was three hours away.

He had completely forgotten about Cas.

"Dean? Dean!"

He was kinda blurry to Dean, but when Cas slapped him, _hard_, he was able to concentrate better. Cas was pale, blood was pouring down the side of his face, and he was holding on to his right arm.

"Dean. I need you to focus."

It was hard to focus on anything except for Sam.

"I can help him, Dean. But I need you to help me first."

He managed to look back at Cas, who looked a little relieved. "Thank you. I can help him, but I need to focus, and I can't _focus_ with my arm out of its socket. Can you help me with that?"

Dean looked at his arm again, and it was definitely out of place. "Dean? Please?"

He felt himself move, but Dean knew he was just doing it out of instinct. He'd done this before, for Sammy and his Dad, so he just popped Cas' arm back in place. Dean thought Cas might have screamed, but his focus went right back to Sam.

"Dean? I need you to stand back."

Cas was kneeling next to Sam, near his head, and he was looking back at Dean. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

Dean didn't move. "Trust me, Dean. Just…go over to that tree."

'_Trust me._' That was the only part that got through. Of course he trusted Cas. He took the few steps back to the rotten old tree. Cas turned back to Sam, put his hand on either side of his head, and started whispering something. Some kind of chant. Dean couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.

For a minute, nothing happened. Then, Sam's breathing, which had been choked and ragged, evened out, went back to normal. And a few seconds later, the smoked flesh smell just disappeared, like it was sucked right out of the air.

Then Dean saw Sam's skin change. The charred places knitted back together, and then turned white, then started looking like skin again. The bright red places started evening out into pink. His hair even started growing back out.

Dean sank down on his knees, not feeling like he could still stand. Sam was going to be okay, Cas was fixing him. And then, Dean remembered something. A conversation that seemed like forever ago.

"_Now. Since you don't have any Grace, you shouldn't be able to do stuff with Enochian. Like blow stuff up and throw people around. But, I'm going to leave that with you. Just, be careful with it."_

Dean stumbled back up. "Cas, wait…"

He wasn't sure if Cas stopped because he spoke up, or because he was done. But Cas straighted up and turned to look at him.

He was even paler than he had been before. "He'll be okay, Dean. Everything's okay."

Cas gave him a weak smile, and then his eyes rolled back and he slumped over on his side. Dean's mind had finally cleared and he rushed over to the two of them, managing to catch Cas before he completely hit the ground. Sam was out, sound asleep. There were still spots that were bright red, like he'd gone out and missed some places with the sunscreen, but he was fine.

Cas, on the other hand, did not look fine. His breathing was shallow and it took Dean way longer than it should have to find his pulse, and he was cold and clammy.

Dean sighed and looked between the two. Then he got up and got the car. He needed to get them home.

XxxX

Cas was easier to get down the steps and to his bedroom. Sam was another matter. But Dean figured he'd just been super-healed. Some bruises weren't going to hurt him any.

They'd both slept the whole trip back from Wyoming. Dean had driven straight to the bunker, not bothering to stop for anything short of beef jerky, coffee, and gas.

He got Sam in his bed, then went back to check on Cas. Meg had already hopped up on the bed next to him, and stared at Dean when he came in, giving him a look that clearly said, 'what the hell did you do?'.

"Hey. Not my fault."

Dean leaned over to see how the cut on his head was doing. He'd cleaned the blood off at a rest stop, but he hadn't been able to look at it. It wasn't deep, and had already closed. Like most scalp wounds, it had just bled way too much, but it left a nasty looking bruise.

Meg climbed up and curled up on Cas' stomach when Dean was finished. He sighed. "Okay. You wanna watch him?"

She purred and blinked at him. "Look, I'm going in my room. Because I haven't slept in two days. You come get me if something happens."

Meg made a little 'mew' noise and put her head down.

Dean checked on Sam again, and he was still asleep. So he went to his room and passed out.

It was about four hours later, and Sam knocked on his door. Dean was up instantly. "Hey, man, how are you feeling?"

Sam looked like he was only half awake. "Hungry."

"I can fix that, come on."

After some coffee and about a couple roast beef sandwiches, Sam was with it enough to start asking questions. Dean told him everything he remembered. Thankfully, Sam didn't remember anything past Dean telling him to duck.

Dean filled him in on what and all had happened after that. When he'd finished, Sam pinched at the skin on his arm. "Weird. It doesn't feel any different."

He slapped at his hand. "It will if you keep doing that, dumb ass."

Sam was still fidgety. "And Cas?"

Dean sighed and shrugged. "Still out. But he's better, I think. He isn't all clammy anymore at least. He'll wake up soon, don't worry."

xXxX

The next day, and Cas still hadn't woken up. As far as Dean could tell, he was otherwise fine, he just kept on sleeping. Meg stayed with him on the bed, sleeping away, too. He hadn't seen her outside Cas' room since they'd got back.

That morning, Dean was about popping full of nervous energy. Sam had, very _very_ unhelpfully, asked him if he wanted to go on a jog. A _jog_? Dean just told him where he could go with that jog and what he could do with it once he got there.

Sam had gone out not too long afterwards, looking snippity.

Before he'd left, Dean worked his nerves off by sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor, damn near sanitizing the counters, washed all the dishes, and gathered up the stray books and put them back on the shelves in the library. After Sam went off, getting his Marion Jones on, Dean went to the trunk of the car and carried most of the arsenal down to the shooting range and started dissembling and cleaning them, too. He brought down the little radio he'd fixed up, and set it on a good station.

He never would have picked himself out as the kind who'd clean-when-nervous.

After about an hour, Dean saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He whipped around, then relaxed.

"What are you doing?"

Meg just tilted her head at him and made a small mew noise, then glared at the radio.

"Yeah, I know. Journey sucks. They got two, _maybe_ three good songs, tops, but…"

She hissed at him, then head-butted his elbow. "Okay, what?"

Meg meowed more insistently, echoing around the room. "I know you have food, and that ham thing was a one-time…"

She hissed again, then got her teeth into his jeans and started tugging. Dean rubbed at his head. "Man. I wish Cas wasn't the only one who can…"

At Cas' name, she called out the loudest, then went scampering out of the room. That was when it hit Dean that it was the first time he'd actually seen Meg out of the room since they'd got back.

Dean chased after her.

By the time he caught up, Cas was already sitting up on the bed, still looking pretty out of it. He turned when Dean came in and managed a small smile.

"Wondered where you were."

He sat down on the side of the bed, facing Cas. "How're you feeling?"

"Better than I look, I imagine."

Cas moved to sit on the side of the bed too, but he was real sluggish. "Yeah. I think you over-did it again."

"How long was I out?"

"Uh, almost three days now."

"And Sam is okay?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. He's out on a run, the freak."

Cas started to laugh, but stopped, gently touching the bruise on his head, and wincing when he moved his shoulder. Dean pulled his hand away. "You banged your self up pretty good. I'll go get some ice…"

He started to get up. "Dean, wait."

He looked at Cas. "I think I need to get up and move. I can meet you in the kitchen."

Dean could tell by looking that Cas had his mind set, so he just nodded. "Fine. You fall over and break anything, I'm just gonna ignore you."

Cas managed to stand, looking pretty wobbly at first, but he evened out after a few seconds. "Duly noted. I'll be fine, promise."

He went to the kitchen and pulled out a couple of ice packs, then looked around for food. They hadn't been to the store since before they'd packed and gone to Wyoming, so it was kinda scarce.

Dean was still unsure about Cas walking around by himself, but sure enough, about ten minutes later, he came into the kitchen. Moving slow, sure, but steady on his feet.

He sat down, well, he kind of plopped down, and Dean handed him the ice packs and what he'd managed to pull together.

"Green beans with bacon bits?"

Dean shrugged and sat across from him. "Sam and me are going out later."

Cas held one of the packs against his head while he ate. "You haven't been sleeping," he said out of the blue, looking up at Dean.

He didn't say anything, so Cas followed, "I know your 'I haven't been sleeping' face by now."

Dean sighed. "I was worried, okay?"

He paused. "You gotta promise me something. You can't go dying on me, alright?"

Cas reached over and took Dean's hand. "I'll do my best, I promise."

He smiled and went back to eating. "And I know my limits, Dean. I'll try not to go overboard again. Although, I can't honestly say I'm sorry, since Sam's doing okay."

Dean finally started to feel some relief. "Thank you."

Meg hopped up on the table next to Cas and rubbed her face against his hand. "Hey, little one."

Dean poked at her side. "You remember what I said about the table?"

He got hissed at, but she slithered her way down into Cas' lap. "You know, the more we speak to her the more she's able to think in a way I can understand?"

"She cussing me out already?"

Meg just started purring and that was about all the answer he needed.

XxxX

One day about a week later, Sam snatched the keys and disappeared for a couple of hours. Dean didn't think too much about it; Sammy did that every once in a while. He'd want to go to the library in town, he'd want to get stuff to make his computer do something that Dean didn't really understand, and sometimes he didn't even bother giving a reason.

In a way, it was kinda a relief. Sam was acting more and more like the goofy kid he'd snatched away from Stanford lifetimes ago. The kid brother who'd superglue his hand to bottles and would sooner put an anonymous tip out on someone trying to kill him rather than just killing them himself.

Back to the Sammy he'd been before the Hell-Blood regimen and Lucifer and Robo-Sam and all that shit. Dean supposed he had Chuck to thank for that.

So when Sam got back, he was carrying a big box and about three or four bags, and looking determined. "We're doing Christmas."

Dean had to think a little on the date, and it was just under a week away from the twenty-fifth.

"What happened to the pagan blah-blah-blah crap?"

Sam shrugged. "We finally have a home, Dean. And we have _never_ been able to have a real Christmas together at home. It'll be fun."

Cas had stuck his head in, probably trying to figure out what was going on, and Sam immediately pointed at him. "And he hasn't ever had one. We _gotta_ do this."

Sam pointed down at the bags. "Look, I got ornaments, I got this stringy tinsel stuff, there's…"

He leaned down and picked something out. "Candy canes. I got _fucking _candy canes, Dean. We are doing this."

Dean looked down at the stuff Sam had put on the floor. The big box was one of those fake, assemble-yourself trees.

"Okay, fine. But you're gonna put that thing together."

xxXX

It took Sammy the better part of an afternoon to put the thing together, setting it up in the middle of the main room of the bunker. Meanwhile, Dean was in charge of catching Cas up on 'current human traditions of celebrating the winter solstice'. After a lot of failing on his part to explain the dumbass 'reason for the season', Dean just set him up with 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' and the Charlie Brown thing and permanently set the radio on the station playing 24/7 holiday music.

They spent another afternoon putting up the crap load of decorations that Sam had got. Meg was 'helping' them, too, knocking ornaments down and chasing them or stealing shiny tinsel clumps and carrying them off to her nest. Freaking magpie.

On Christmas Eve, they decided they would have a big supper and then open the presents that night. And Sam had decided that, as hard as the sucker had been to put up, all the Christmas crap was staying up until February at the earliest. Dean had had some things to say about that, but Sam basically ignored him.

So most of that day, Dean stayed in the kitchen. He'd very _very_ stupidly decided to cook a fucking _turkey_. He'd looked up the how-to-do's on Sammy's computer, and one of the sites just had the word 'PRAY' on it. That should have been a damn good clue.

After a lot of ick, and stuffing a lot of crap into a dead bird carcass, he'd finally got the damn thing into the oven. He celebrated by starting on a much nicer dish. Apple pies were obviously a big part of the Christmas eating traditions, and no one was going to tell him otherwise. He'd popped them in to bake, and Cas came in, pushing himself to sit on the counter like he usually did.

"How are you doing?" He looked amused and Dean figured he must have flour on his face or something.

"Fine. That turkey knows who the bitch is now. What's Sam doing?"

"He's on the phone. He said it was an old friend, someone named Rebecca?"

It took Dean a couple of minutes to remember who he was talking about. "Oh, yeah. That chick he was in school with."

Cas looked around. "Can I help?"

Dean tried to think of what else needed to be done, and eventually set a few potatoes next to him and a knife. "Peel and cut these up?"

They talked while Dean checked on the turkey to make sure it was still going the way it was supposed to according to the only website he'd found that looked useful, and he gave Cas a few easy things to do. Cas still wasn't completely comfortable with the kitchen stuff, convinced he was gonna do something like start a fire or blow something up. It was fun; they joked around, Cas would flick potato peelings at the back of his head, and they'd hum along with some of the Christmas music that Dean still had on the radio. He was feeling so disturbingly warm and fuzzy that he even had some half-assed ideas about asking Cas to dance with him.

A couple of hours later and it was all ready and Sammy was setting the table. They had the turkey, mashed potatoes with peas and carrots, and stuffing, and that cranberry jiggly stuff, and apple pies, and Sam had made eggnog. Thankfully with less 'kick' than it had had the last time. Meg kept circling under the table and between their legs, crying for food, like they starved her or something. She ended up getting handed enough turkey from all three of them that she probably ate almost as much as they did.

And then, after all that, and all Dean wanted to do was pass out with Cas in the bed, it was present time. The three of them sat down on the floor in front of the tree after Sam plugged it in. The string of lights were all different colors, and Sam had put a very loud neon flashy star thing on top. Dean figured that getting an angel might have been a little insensitive. As soon as Cas sat down, Meg curled up in his lap and started purring.

Sammy, now bouncing around like a happy little puppy, handed his presents to Dean and Cas. He'd used actual wrapping paper on Cas', but Dean's was wrapped in newspaper.

And inside was something Dean never expected to see again.

He held his old amulet up, just staring at it for a minute. "Sam?"

He looked a little embarrassed. "I, uh…Well, I fished it out of the trashcan, when you first tossed it, and I put it someplace safe. I figured there'd be a time when I could give it back, and after all that happened this year…Now'd be good."

Dean had to smile. "Horcrux seeking medallion," he snorted, and slipped it over his head. "It's weird, I got so used to not having it, I didn't even realize that I missed it."

He shook Sam gently by the shoulder. "Thanks, Sammy."

Cas was tearing the paper off his own gift, Meg swatting at it. It was in a box, and Cas opened it and pulled out something round, about the size of his palm, and it looked like it was made out of granite or something.

"I don't know what it's for," Sam started. "Maybe it's a paper weight, or a candle thing, or maybe just a pen holder. But I thought you'd like it."

Dean leaned closer to see what it was. It was a carving of 'The Last Supper' that wrapped halfway around, and then on the bottom of the other half was the word 'Jerusalem'.

Cas weighed it in his hand. "Well, this is interesting. Where'd you find it?"

Sam shrugged. "A store in town. I just figured it was some kind of mass-produced touristy thing. Why?"

He was still looking the thing over. "In a way, you're right. This was made shortly after what you call the second world war, in a celebration of Israel becoming its own nation."

Cas turned it over. "See, it's stamped on the bottom. 'Bethlehem'. Rabbis and priests, the kind who still practiced magic, from both cities made a couple hundred of things like this, some with other biblical scenes, or scripture. Then they sent them to other important religious figures. I believe the Pope may even have a couple."

He smiled at Sam. "The magic wore off a long time ago, but I bet that's what drew you to this."

He set it back in its box so Meg wouldn't start poking at it. "You have a good eye, Sam."

Dean reached and handed over his presents. "Okay, these are kind of…really…stupid."

Sammy had gotten into his first. It was just an envelope anyway, so it wasn't like he had something to rip into. His eyes went huge when he saw what was inside.

"Whoa, Dean. What the hell is this for?"

It was money, and a pretty good bit of it. "Remember, uh, you were wanting to do some on-line school stuff? That's for that."

"Seriously? How did you get this?"

Dean started heating up. He should have figured Sammy would go digging rather than just say 'thanks'.

"I had a college fund started up."

"What? When did you…"

"Sam."

Cas had interrupted, and just shook his head. Sam stared at him for a second, then turned back to Dean and gave him a sort of sideways hug. "Thanks, Dean. I'm gonna start looking at classes tomorrow."

Dean turned and Cas was opening the box he'd gotten from Dean. This was the one he felt really stupid about.

Cas lifted out the dream catcher by the loop that it would hang from the wall on. It was made from dark blue leather and grey strings, and black and blue and grey beads and three midnight black feathers.

He just stared at it, and Dean got fidgety. "Bobby taught us how to make those when we were kids. It's not that great, I just kinda…"

"Are these mine?"

Cas was gently touching one of the feathers along its edge. Dean sighed.

"Yeah, well…I found them in my jacket after all that was over. Ruth had given 'em to me."

Cas was gently putting it back. "Thank you."

He smiled at Dean, and he knew he'd done good. Whatever it was, he knew Cas would explain later. In the meantime, Cas handed Sam and Dean their own gifts.

Sam got into his first. "Oh, cool, a new watch."

Of course, the one he'd had had burned up. "Hey, check it out, it's got a compass on it…"

While Sammy played with it, Dean tore off the paper from his present, giving Meg some more to chase around. It was a charcoal grey leather bound notebook, with rings that opened up for more pages and there were a few packets of them already in the back. It was a lot like his Dad's.

"I know you've been wanting to start one, not just for keeping here at the bunker, but out on the road."

Dean grinned at him. "This is great, Cas. Thanks."

Sam was still playing with his watch so he leaned over and kissed Cas on the temple.

He'd had his doubts, but this had been a great Christmas.

xxXX

Dean and Cas usually had their 'talks', if they needed to have any, after they'd gotten into bed. It worked for them.

"So, the feathers…"

Cas shifted. "Angels don't just give feathers out to anyone. It's an…intimate thing, I guess. Ruth probably thought it was funny. But that you turned it into a gift means a lot."

Dean nodded. "So, it's okay?"

"Of course. And Sam's gift?"

"I didn't lie. It _was_ a college fund."

Cas could feel Dean tense. "Ben's?"

He breathed out. "Yeah."

XxxX

Less than a week later, and they were staking out a little town in southern Texas for a werewolf. Garth had tipped them off that another hunter had tracked it last lunar cycle, but they weren't one hundred percent sure who it was.

So he'd sent them to finish the job.

It'd been narrowed down to three people; a comic book artist, an investment banker, and a T.V. weatherman.

Cas had gotten the weatherman. It was boring, the staking out. This man was painfully dull. He'd gone to bed very early; Cas imagined it was because he had to be at the news place at four in the morning. So he was sitting at a bus stop, where he had a perfect view of both the man's window and the door to the apartment building, the only two ways for him to get out.

The moon was about to rise when Cas' phone rang. The number was unfamiliar.

"Hello?"

"Uhm. Hello. Is this Cas?" It was a man's voice.

"Yes. Who is this?" No stirring from the building.

"I…My name is Tommy Walker. My wife, Lizzy…I think you're her brother."

He nodded. "Yes. Is everything okay?"

Tommy sounded nervous and jumpy. "What? Oh, yeah, she's great. Just sleeping. She wanted me to call you and let you know, she had the baby, just over an hour ago. First baby born in the new year."

Cas smiled. "That's great!"

"Yeah. Just a little…overwhelming. I mean, you wait nine months and then she's here."

"She?"

"Oh. Yeah, a girl. Lizzy wanted to name her Cordelia."

Cas kept his eyes on the windows. Something was moving.

"Cordelia Walker. I hope to meet her soon."

"Yeah. That'd be good. You're welcome anytime…"

Cas heard glass shattering. "Tommy, give my best to Lizzy and the baby but I have something to take care of."

"Oh, 'kay. Bye."

He shut his phone and jogged across the road. The weatherman had gotten from his apartment on the fourth floor and made it to the lobby by the time Cas got to the sidewalk, just in time for the damn thing to see him and come crashing through the glass doors and all but tackle him.

Ten minutes later, after Cas had dragged the now very dead man into the alleyway nearby and hid him behind a dumpster, he wiped the blood off his hands and face and called Dean.

"Cas, please tell me you found it. I am _so_ bored."

He huffed. "Yes, and it's taken care of."

"Oh, thank God. I'll swing by for you then we'll get Sam."

Cas almost hung up. "Oh. And hey…"

"What?"

"Happy New Year, babe."

XxxX

There was a really hard case in Maine, made even shittier because the temperatures never got above freezing the whole time they were there. Dean had come across an article on the internet about a town that was convinced it was under attack by something. Of course, no one was taking it seriously, so on the road they went.

By the time they got there, the town had broken away into about four or five different factions, each overly paranoid of the others. One of them snatched the guys up as soon as they got there, led by a twitchy looking guy who used to run a sporting store.

After a couple of days, Sam, Cas, and Dean started turning on each other, too. There were a couple of bad fights, a lot of screaming, Dean got his nose broke _again_, and they were way too distracted to realize the sports dude was actually a wraith. He'd put the bad mojo on them, and before too long they were bringing up all the old crap; Sam's problems with John, Dean's abandonment issues, everything that happened with Ruby and Anna and that siren thing, and Adam, and then they got into what Sam did when he lost his soul, and that led to the crap with Crowley, and then they got into the Amy Pond thing, and how Sam killed Dean's daughter, and Cas definitely hadn't known about that, when did this happen…It just went on and on and on…

In the end, _Garth_ came out and saved them. He'd read about the story, the same way that Dean had, and had come to investigate. Being rescued by Garth…It was starting to get to be a really embarrassing trend.

Especially when he started saying shit like, 'I came, I saw, I Garth'd it in the ass! Aw, wait, that didn't come out right…'.

Thankfully, Garth didn't stick around. He had another thing he was looking into, so they went their separate ways.

In was an uncomfortable, mostly silent drive towards home. Dean didn't even tunelessly sing along with the radio, he just drove and tried not to move his face too much. Cas was sulking in the backseat, and Sam was watching the whitish grey scenery when he had an idea.

"Dean, get on the next highway going west."

"Why?" He was snappish, but Sam had kinda expected that.

"Remember how we used to go to Vegas every year? We haven't done that since…"

Dean turned to glare at him. "Since you got hitched to Becky."

"Yeah, that…That isn't what I was thinking we'd do this time."

He sighed and glared at the road instead. "Whatever."

Sam turned around. "Cas?"

Cas shrugged. "This is some fraternal bonding thing. I don't have an opinion either way."

Dean huffed and looked up at the rearview mirror. "Don't get bitchy."

He rolled his eyes and got in the lane to switch onto another highway. "We're going."

xxXX

Dean had to admit, Sammy's Vegas idea was good. They'd gotten their rooms, and now they were hitting the bar and the casino, and they'd split up. He needed a little bit of space away from Sam and Cas, after all the bad stuff that the wraith had dragged back up.

It was nice, to just sit and have, an admittedly strong, drink without the guilty fog.

Lasted maybe three hours. By then, he had a nice buzz going, and he decided to go and try to find Cas and Sam. He was feeling a lot better now. Dean should have been able to predict they'd already be up to something. He found them at a table on the other side of the room, surrounded by about ten or eleven of those cups they used to collect quarters from the slot machines.

"Whoa. Someone got lucky."

Sam turned his bitch-face on him and hissed, "No, someone _cheated_."

Cas just shrugged, and Dean noticed that he had his own drink in his hand. "Sam is exaggerating."

"No, I'm not, he put his angel hoodoo on the…"

Dean waved at Sam to shut up. "Quit talking about cheating and hoodoo, they'll overhear and put the Mob on us."

"The…Dean, we aren't in a Sinatra movie!"

Sam rushed them to cash out and then started herding them to their rooms, before Dean could properly bask in all the money, but not before he managed to snatch a bottle of celebratory champagne.

He shoved Dean and Cas into their room, still bitching at them under his breath.

"I dunno Sammy's problem. Personally," he threw his arm around Cas' shoulders. "…I think you're awesome."

He pulled the bottle out of Dean's hands. "I _am_ awesome."

Looking back, Dean wasn't sure how they ended up there, but they sat at other ends of the tub in the bathroom, handing the champagne bottle back and forth and just talking.

Cas smiled and tapped his foot against Dean's knee. "I'm lucky, you know that?"

Dean hummed and nodded. "I did know that. We all are, I guess."

He pulled on the end of his amulet; he'd been doing that every so often, just to remind himself it was there. "Sorry about your nose."

Dean rolled his eyes; leave it to Cas to cut into a good buzz. "Sorry about your face."

"I don't know what that even means."

He had leaned his head so he was resting on the edge of the tub and was doing that cute squinty thing he did. "Hell, I don't know either."

"I meant, you know…I don't think I got this across, but I really wanna kiss you, except you're all…broke nosed."

Dean laughed, even though it hurt. "We can do all sorts of stuff that don't involve my nose."

Cas rolled his head around so he was looking at the ceiling. "I'm sleepy."

He made himself focus a little. "You didn't over…"

Cas didn't let Dean finish. "Please. The energy to manipulate a simple piece of…blinky gears…"

He bumped him with his knee. "Yeah, whatever."

"This is the fault of the fizzley drink."

Dean tried to get up, but he felt too heavy. "Gimme a minute and we'll get to the bed."

"Yeah, okay, mon ange." Cas already looked asleep.

He smiled, and his eyes were falling shut too. It'd been a long time since he'd called Dean that.

"Love you, Cas."

He just hummed, and that was the last thing Dean heard until the next morning.

XxxX

It was a bright, beautiful spring afternoon in early April, and Dean got a call from Garth out of the blue.

"Dean, uh, we got a problem with Kevin."

He walked towards the main room where he knew Cas and Sam were. "What's wrong with Kevin?"

Dean put the phone on speaker. "He took over the car and now he's got this freaky, glowey eye thing, and we're headed your way. When he snaps out he just says…"

There was a scrambling noise. "Guys? It's Kevin. Kevin Tran."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We know who you are. What are you doing?"

"Gotta get to the bunker. Only safe place. Plan more from there."

There was a thud, then Garth got back on the phone. "Uh, any ideas? He's been like this since we left Missouri."

Cas leaned closer to the phone. "It's a prophet thing. He's being led to something, he just doesn't know what it is. Let him drive, we'll be here."

An hour later, and Kevin came flying into the bunker with Garth trying to keep up, pacing and looking more nervous as Dean had seen him in a really long time. They tried asking him what was up, but he just kept walking around and mumbling to himself. Then, he suddenly grabbed Cas by the shoulders and shook him.

"We were so stupid. I mean, why didn't _we_ think about it? _Stupid_!"

Naturally, he was confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tablets," Kevin hissed, and paced more.

"Angels. Demons. Leviathan. Heaven. Hell. Purgatory."

He looked around at the four of them. "Can't you see what is missing?"

They were all silent and looked at each other. "No, Kevin. You wanna tell us?"

He waved his arms around. "It's _us_. Here, humans. _This_."

"There's a Human Tablet?"

"That's what I've been saying! Crowley was right, you are a moose."

Sam looked around. "And it's here?"

Kevin glared at him. "What, no! I was just led here, I guess because we need you with us to get it."

"Well, where is it?"

He finally sat down, looking frazzled. "I dunno. All I could get was…Like, dark blue? And, this symbol."

Sam took the sketch Kevin held out. "I'll look into it."

Kevin was rubbing at his head. "You got a headache, kiddo?"

He just nodded and looked miserable. The prophet shit really took it out of him. Cas followed Dean when he went to get the aspirin.

"You didn't know about this?"

Cas shook his head. "Like I told you before, the tablets weren't meant for angels, just for prophets. Now that Chuck is back in charge, maybe He decided this other tablet needed to be found, too."

Sam had already found the symbol by the time they got back.

"It's a symbol of Queen Joanna of Spain. Get this, in the early 1500s, she was sending a 'religious relic of the utmost importance' to the New World for safe keeping. The ship carrying it never reached port. It made it to Havana, but they never got to Veracruz. They figured there was some curse on the relic, and made the ship sink. From when it left, and these old weather reports, it probably got caught in a hurricane somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico."

Kevin nodded. "That explains the blue I saw, it was the ocean. And these tablets, they try to protect themselves. It probably did sink the ship, making sure no one would find it."

Dean looked excited. "So, we're actually going after a sunken treasure?"

Sam shook his head. "That's what it's starting to look like."

"In that case, we're gonna need a pirate."

xxXX

"Lemme get this straight…You want me to get a boat, so we can go and find this rock…That this here kid had a dream about?"

Dean rolled his eyes at the phone. They were packing the car. "We need someone other than Garth who knows boats. And, hey, the best place to leave would be from New Orleans. Now, who do I know who's good with boats _and_ is in the area? Oh yeah…"

"I got your point, Brother."

Benny sighed over the phone. "I know a guy who'll probably lend me his sailboat. But you sure you know what we're doin'?"

"Kevin does. He'll point us the right way, don't worry about it. See you soon."

He hung up before Benny could say anything else.

Just before they were about to leave, Dean's phone went off again.

"Charlie? What's…"

"You are going out getting your Johnny Depp on, and you didn't invite _me_?"

He sighed. "Charlie…"

"Garth called. I wanna go."

"But…"

"No. If there's awesome, cursed sunken treasure, you're going to need a scuba diver. And I'm certified!"

Dean leaned his forehead down on his car door. "Yeah, you're certified something."

"What?"

"Nothing. Garth can dive, too."

He heard Charlie huff over the phone. "Come on, you gotta let me go. I was invited. Please!" The 'please' was long and drawn out.

"Besides, I'm already thirty minutes away."

Dean snapped up. "What?"

"Yeah, he called last night. I heard 'pirate treasure' and hit the road."

"Ugh, whatever."

Intense squealing.

Awesome.

xxXX

It was a drive from northern Kansas down to New Orleans, and they kept switching up the passengers between Dean's car and Charlie's. The six hours stuck with Garth trying to explain the license plate game to Cas were some of the longest of his life.

He had never, _ever_, been happier to see Benny.

Benny showed them the boat and they all got on board, Benny demanding that they all call him 'Captain Lafitte' from now on. Dean didn't know much about them, but he guessed it was a nice boat. It looked nice.

Hopefully sturdy.

He actually trusted boats out on the open sea almost as much as he trusted airplanes. At least he didn't get seasick; unlike poor Sammy, who started puking about two hours into their 'voyage'.

Kevin kept going into trances and pointed Garth and the 'Captain' in the right direction, and the next day he frantically told them to stop. "Here. We're right over top of the wreck."

Charlie and Garth suited up and went under. They were gone awhile, Kevin pacing the deck and Sam was looking awfully green. He looked so bad Dean didn't even have it in him to pull his chains about it. He leaned against the side next to Cas.

He looked worried. "What's up?"

"I don't know, Dean. Something doesn't feel right."

Just then, Charlie resurfaced, and pushed an ancient looking trunk about the size of a milk crate onto the deck. "Hey, we found a few of these. Gonna bring them up."

She went down just as Garth came up, too. "It'd be a waste just to leave these down there."

All together they hauled up ten of these trunks. Dean opened one. "Oh, wow."

Gold, lots of gold. Discolored from being in the ocean, sure, but still…_Gold_.

"We are so freakin' rich."

Kevin had picked up a particular chest. "This one."

They tried to pull the lock off; the ones on the others were rusted enough to just break. In the end, they had to take a solid gold brick and bash it. Sure enough, inside was a chunk of rock, the same size as the other tablets they'd found.

"I'm not gonna open it yet," Kevin said, shutting the trunk back and taking it down where all their stuff was. "I'll wait 'till we get back…"

Suddenly, the boat rocked. Kevin squawked and fell down the steps, and Sam grabbed onto the mast. "What was that?"

Cas turned to Garth and Charlie. "Did either of you see anything down there?"

"No," Garth started, and then paused. "Wait. Nothin' at all."

He looked at Charlie. "Not even any fish."

The boat rocked again and almost went sideways. Kevin managed to drag his way back up, bringing the duffels they'd brought along with the weapons in them. Dean turned, and saw the back of what looked like a giant snake going back under the waves.

Charlie saw it too. "Oh, God. What was that, a level five Kaiju?"

"I don't know what that is," Cas started, "but I think it was a sea dragon."

Sam groaned. "Like, a _dragon_ dragon?"

"A distant cousin of what you two faced before."

The boat actually bounced, and they all got tossed around, and a bunch of spray rained on them. "They guard treasure troves, and we disturbed it."

Benny was straightening himself up. "How're we gonna kill it?"

Dean shook his head. "We aren't. Unless these sea dragons are different enough?"

"They aren't. Only a sword forged with the blood of a dragon will work."

The boat rocked and Charlie groaned. "Man, I'm never gonna be able to look at my D&D boards the same way again…"

Kevin had pulled the angel blade they'd brought with them out. "What about this? It kills all kinds of stuff."

Cas shook his head. "Nope."

Garth watched as it slithered around them. "What're we gonna do?"

Sam took the blade from Kevin. "Cas, could you melt this?"

He looked confused, and the boat rocked again. "Theoretically."

Sam looked at the water. "What if we can make it bleed? Get the blood, melt this, then re-make it?"

"You make that sound awful simple, Brother."

Charlie pointed at it; it was getting closer. "How're we going to cut through that?"

Kevin held up a knife he'd pulled out. "The eyes! That'd be its weakest spot!"

She snapped her fingers. "Yeah! Like how Fawkes helped Harry with the baskilisk!"

"Okay, that's all good, but how the fuck do we get to its eyes?"

"By getting its attention!" Garth took a golden dagger and threw it at a part of the dragon that had just come up above the water.

Well. That got its attention.

There was a huge swell, and they all got soaked again, the boat nearly going under. When they straightened back up, there was a huge, _huge_ snake looming over them. At least ten feet above them, hissing and glaring, like it was about to strike.

Luckily, Kevin had some damn good aim. Advanced placement must have had its advantages. Globs of greenish, greyish ick hit the boat deck and Dean pulled Cas down next to one. "Okay, quick, do this."

It took a minute, seeing as Cas had to concentrate despite the now constant rocking, but he got the angel blade to melt into a puddle, swirl in with the blood, and reforged it.

Dean picked it up, and it looked nothing like any blade he'd ever seen. There was no real handle exactly, and it zig-zagged and there was a place in the middle that was flat and almost a perfect circle and then some curlie-ques.

Cas shrugged. "Sorry…"

He looked at it. "Hey, it's gotta pointy end. Works for me."

The sea dragon was still flailing. Dean got close enough to the side and slashed out, but all that did was make it hiss, and then all of a sudden, it just disappeared back into the water with hardly a ripple.

Dean looked around. "Did I kill it?"

Cas shook his head, getting water out of his hair. "They can take a human form, remember?"

Dean looked around. "Okay, it'll come on board on the back. Garth, get in that corner. When its close enough, stab it from behind to distract it."

When the sea dragon came out, it wasn't what Dean expected. It was female, for one thing. She had long wavy, light blue hair that trailed behind her and covered her like a robe. Otherwise she was naked. Her skin was blue, too, and her eyes were especially freaky. The one that was left was yellow, and snakey looking and when she spoke she showed a forked tongue and talked with a hiss.

"Foolishhh humans. Hshah."

She tilted her head and moved forward. "You," she pointed a clawed finger at Cas. "Your faysh, it'shh familiar, hashah."

Dean reached and pulled Cas closer behind him. "Yesshh. Mother dwelt upon your faysh, haashasa."

"Oh shit," he whispered behind Dean, and the dragon moved slowly closer, but not close enough yet.

"What?"

"She's an Alpha."

Dean turned to look at him. "Will this still work?"

He shrugged.

"Awesome."

Almost there. Dean gave Garth a nod, and he started forward. It was pretty quick after that. The dragon turned and grabbed Garth by the throat, hissing loudly, and it was enough of a distraction for Dean to bury the very weird blade right into her chest.

She looked furious, turning loose of Garth, then from where the blade was, she started turning even bluer, then solid looking.

"Uh, if dragons burn hot, then would a sea dragon be…"

"Everyone drop!"

Thanks to Sam's warning none of them got hit by the exploding ice.

"Dude. You just full on Queen Elsa'd Lady Voldemort."

XXxx

It took Kevin around a month of being holed up in his old room in the bunker to translate the Human Tablet. As it turns out, there wasn't whole lot they didn't already know.

"Okay, this passage here says, uh, 'in every generation there will be a chosen one to carry the Word,'."

That had cracked Dean up. "That totally makes you Buffy, man."

And every human soul would be taken to Heaven or Hell, there were rules they already knew about ghosts and ghouls. It was pretty much a letdown as far as new info was concerned, but Kevin still put it in a book and hid it like he'd done with the other three, and then took it with him, to break apart and toss wherever.

Dean wasn't totally sure how these things happened. Somehow sprits knew things, spread them around, and eventually word got out that there had been another tablet, and that it had been found. And of course, the Winchesters were involved in some way.

Even with how Crowley had changed how Hell worked, there were still some nasty demons out there. Because, hey, they're _demons_.

The three of them were on some poltergeist thing, just on the other side of the Oklahoma border when Dean got snatched. These demons were very interested in what exactly was on that tablet. He wasn't sure what they expected was gonna be there, but they were determined to get at it. And they were resorting to pretty extreme measures. He tried all kinds of ways to escape, but they had set up spells and all sorts of bad mojo.

It took Sam and Cas four days to find him. Cas had his neat-o locator spell, but the demons were on top of it, and they kept moving around. When they did catch up, Dean had been beaten, whipped, cut, and burned.

It'd been a bad four days.

After about a week, he'd mostly healed. He still had some cuts and most of the ribs on his left side still felt either broken or at least really bruised, but other than that he was fine.

And that was when the nightmares kicked back up. The first couple of nights, it was just flashes, enough to make him wake up sweating, but then they got worse. Cas tried to help, woke him up when he shook too much, or started talking in his sleep.

Then, one night, he had the one nightmare he always dreaded having.

It was the day, the last day, the day he broke down. Alistair had ripped him open. Cracked apart his chest, and then pulled his heart out, still working, pumping in the demon's hand. Then he took a hot needle and started poking it.

He was screaming, and thrashing, and suddenly the dream changed. He'd gotten his hands free, and finally, _finally_ got his hands around Alistair's neck.

And then, out of nowhere, Dean was tossed completely out of the nightmare, hitting the floor of his room hard, landing on his hurt side. For a second, a happy second, he thought he'd just flailed his way off the bed before Cas could wake him up. But then he looked, and Cas was sitting on the side of the bed, holding his throat and coughing.

"Oh my God…"

Dean's vision went out a little on the edges, and he never could remember how he made it to the bathroom before he was puking, waves of nausea still rolling over him after he stopped. Then he was just kneeling there, crying with his head against the toilet.

Shit, he was fucked up.

After a couple more minutes, he felt someone kneel down next to him. "Dean?"

It was Cas, but he sounded so hoarse, it just made him cry more. "No, come on, mon ange, you can't stay on the floor all night."

Somehow, Cas got Dean back to his bed, then he was able to see him. Dean could already see the bruises coming up. He sat next to him, reaching out.

"Is your side okay? I think you landed…"

Dean flinched away from his hand. "Don't."

"Dean, it wasn't…"

"Seriously, don't."

Cas sighed. "You want me to go?"

He turned to look at Cas, but just ended up leaning his forehead on Cas' shoulder and started crying again. It was embarrassing and painful, actually painful because his ribs were throbbing.

But Cas just let him, eventually rubbing circles against his back, and humming some tuneless, random melody.

Dean felt himself hiccup. "I am _so_ sorry, babe."

"I know. It's okay, we're both okay. I'm sorry, too. Come on, you need to lie down."

Cas got Dean back under the covers, and then got back in himself. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to maybe sleep some more."

"Why are you still here?"

Cas moved around so he was facing Dean. "Where else would I be?"

Dean shuddered, still feeling so weird. "I tried to strangle you."

"You were reliving something, I don't know what, and you reacted to it. I'm not scared of you, and I'm not angry at you. I'm _fine_. And I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Shit, now he was crying again. "Oh, Dean…Please, I…"

He cut Cas off by leaning over and kissing him. He was off center, and it was all wet, and actually, a pretty gross kiss, but Dean figured he'd got his point across.

xxXX

It was late May, and the garden was beautiful. All the wild flowers were in bloom and the bees were buzzing around. It was perfect and warm and everything perfect that God created.

Cas had been out all that morning, and into the early afternoon, sitting on the small bridge. He was trying to draw the stream, but water was proving to be very problematic.

It just didn't go onto the paper looking right.

By the time Dean wandered out, he was losing patience.

"How's it going?"

"It isn't."

Dean sat down and peeked over his shoulder. "Oh, well…"

Cas shut his notebook and hit Dean in the arm with it.

He laughed but then started fiddling with something in his pocket. "Uh, look. This is stupid. Just tell me, 'Dean, you're stupid, go away'."

"Dean. You're stupid. Go away."

He sighed. "Okay, yeah."

He started to stand up, but Cas grabbed on to the back of his jeans. "Wait, no. What is it?"

Dean huffed. "Oh, God. Okay."

He pulled something from his pocket and held it out. It was a wide, double-banded ring that Cas remembered Dean used to wear, that had belonged to Mary Winchester.

"I stopped wearing it a while back. I didn't want to lose it during, you know, the apocalypse thing. And it's all beat up, but…it was Mom's, so I kept it safe. Uhm, and I thought, maybe _you_ could keep it safe for a while."

Dean closed his hand. "Like I said. It's stupid."

"No, it's not." Cas grabbed his wrist, and Dean opened back up.

It wasn't the right size for his ring finger, but it fit fine on his middle finger. There was still a lot Cas didn't understand about being human. As Dean and Sam had taught him, he probably never would completely understand.

But from what he had seen, he knew what _this_ meant. He knew what Dean was offering him, and what it was probably costing him, because he knew _Dean_.

Dean was giving him trust and love and hope and family.

And, being human, in the end, wasn't that the whole point?


End file.
